Children play as shells roar overhead
Tricolours fly with Union Jacks in freed Bayeux — but guns are just miles away
THIS Norman town of Bayeux, only some 80 hours liberated, has declared an unofficial holiday. Everyone has put on Sunday clothing.
The streets are lined with men, women, children and a lot of dogs. The women and children smile, the men look grim and wave their hands.
Only the dogs remain quiet. They have seen so much fuss over the comings and goings of tanks and vehicles that it’s old stuff to them.
Everyone who has one has dug out a tricolour flag, and the whole town is spotted with British flags from goodness knows where.
You stop in the street and a crowd gathers. Your Jeep pulls to a corner and boys are all over it. But it cannot be called a riotous welcome. It is more of a welcome with reservations — and the reservations are only a mile and a half away.
BOOMING GUNS
The booming of German guns and the stutter of their machine- guns are reminders to these people who have lived under the Hun for some four years that liberation takes some getting used to — and it has to be made to stick. Somehow you can’t blame them for these reservations.
Meanwhile, the people are making us welcome and genuinely want us to stay. Our armour and our goodwill are slowly convincing them that this is not a Dunkirk operation and not a Dieppe raid.
The peculiar thing about this battle is that the French civilians are doing their best to ignore it. Not six streets from where a machine-gun was operating, the residents of Bayeux were having their afternoon coffee.
Children were playing in the streets — a woman with a large basket over her arm was delivering eggs to her customers. We stopped and talked with one of these families.
I asked them if they weren’t frightened by the skirmishing just over the hill. They said they were — ‘anyone would be’. But they showed no signs of leaving their home.
EXCITED CHILDREN
I believe the children were actually enjoying the excitement. To them it was like a film come to life.
There were eight children living in this house. It was shared by two women, both of whose husbands are still prisoners in German hands. An elderly man and his wife also lived there.
They said the incomplete fortifications around the town had been built by local labour. The Germans paid about four shillings a day for this work.
Many of the men of the town have been shipped off for conscript labour in Germany. However, there are still many young men in the area — farmers and labourers.
The hotel gave us a treat for dinner. We had a cold hors-d’oeuvre of potato salad and some German sausage. Then we had what was ordinarily the main course — mashed potatoes, mixed with some minced meat.
Then followed the treat — excellent roast turkey and garden peas.
FRESH FRUIT
French cooking has not deteriorated under Nazi rule. There is just less of it.
To top the whole thing off, the manageress produced some strawberries fresh from a greenhouse and served on grape leaves.
Most of the population believe that we are here to stay, no matter how noisy the German guns are.
In the first place, our guns always seem to reply at a ratio of three to one. In the second place, they really want us to stay.
Walking down the main street, I came upon a brand new battle insignia. It is worn around the left arm, only by civilians. It is the red, white, and blue bandeau of the Fighting French.
The civilians wearing them grin self- consciously and give the ‘ V’ sign for victory. Many of them did not know themselves that their neighbours were members of the underground.
These people for four years worked in groups — but few knew who composed the group.
PROUD DAY
They knew only the leader immediately superior to them. It is an exceptionally proud day for them — the first day that they can come from underground and show their true colours.
They are proud of them, as well they should be.