CONCENTRATED HATE

Dominion, Volume 37, Issue 280, 23 August 1944, Page 5

CONCENTRATED HATE

French Feelings Toward Vichyites

(By Telegraph.—Press Assn.—Copyright.) (Special Correspondent.) (Received August 22, 9.20 p.m.) LONDON, August 22. With the penetration of Allied forces into southern France more is becoming known of the spirit of the French people in their fight against the Nazis and of the feeling of hatred which the Germans have left behind. Here are extracts from some of the reports of war correspondents. Writing from St. Maxine, one states: “The French population soon came down from the hills, as the Germans had cleared the coast of inhabitants in the last few months. But there was no flowerthcowing, no wiue-giving, no kissing as the French who had suffered the hells of occupation met their compatriots of the French Army which had just landed. For the most part they stood and looked at each other with that awkwardness and shyness you would expect at the reunion of a family which for years had been divided against itself and had become a family again. “I began to regret that I could find no colour till I realized I was finding truer colours than the crimson of uncorked wine and the yellows and blues of thrown flowers. These French had sq little to offer. It may be true that the people of Normandy were never without adequate food, but these people were. These folk often cried out for bread. Pathetic Offerings. f'A naval officer and I came across a middle-aged Frenchman who had been shot through the feet. He had crawled five miles through the night with the bones of his feet shot through the side. We raced for the French Red Cross ambulance. When we returned, civilians were trying to ease his pain with little gifts; and what do you think those gifts were? Biscuits thrown away by our troops. Half-smoked cigarettes and lemonade crystals discarded from the American ration. “I drove on to French troops who were mustering for an important drive within one hour of their arrival. There was no ‘On to Paris!’ on their lips. It was ‘On to Vichy!’ I do not like the way they say it.” Another correspondent said: “The little town of Lorgues is mourning and rejoicing. Eighteen youths, members of the local ‘refractaire’ organization, have just been buried, and another 10 lie critically wounded. But the hated Nazis have been driven out and French troops are in occupation. One weeping mother, as she watched the sheet-shrouded victims being lowered into a mass grave, said fiercely: ‘I have given my only son, but the price is not formidable. We are free. Franco lives again.’ ” Mutilated Boys. The correspomlynt explained that the “refractaires” were youths who refused to obey call-ups for work for the Germans and, being too young to join the Maquis, formed their own organizations in the villages. In Lorgues there were 60 “refractaires,” and since the occupation of southern France they have killed over 200 Germans. “When refractaires were captured Germans inflicted dreadful punishment before shooting them. Every youth I saw at their hidden headquarters had photographs of dead comrades. Some had been shockingly mutilated before being bound and shot, their chests and stomachs being slashed witii knives.” The correspondent says that in every liberated town practically every man and woman who collaborated with the Germans hag been arrested and flung into jail.. The bitter, brooding hatred for the Nazis is incomparable with the intense loathing the French bear for the people who assisted the invaders, and their first act as soon as the Allies drive the Nazis out is to apprehend the collaborators who remained.

Another correspondent says that the arrival of French forces in the liberated towns and villages has resulted in spontaneous rejoicing often approaching mass hysteria. Columns of troops were held up while crowds sang with depth of feeling “The Marseillaise.”

“Today every liberated town is bedecked with flags, and Allied proclamations have been posted on every wall.” he says. “All business ceases, and crowds line the footpaths cheering, clapping and singing continuously as the troops pass by. A grimmer note is struck as collaborationists in care of the Maquis are marched off to the local jail. There is a sudden silence; then the crowd hisses with the peut-up hatred nnd suppressed fury of years. It is a most chilling sound—Concentrated, loathing almost terrifying in its intensity.”