See you Soon Caroline! Chapter 9

Chapter Nine:

The Holocaust Museum

 

The Weavers emerged from the Paris Metro at the Hotel de Ville station, and found themselves in the drizzle on a busy main road. Dad had his Paris guide in his hand, and was trying to work out which way was north.

“If the sun was shining I’d know which way to go!” he exclaimed. “But I don’t know which side of the road we’re on, and so I don’t know whether to go left or right!”

“Is it far from here?” asked Caroline’s mother.

“Just a couple of streets along, then a few yards down towards the river.”

“I think this is the Rue de Rivoli” said Simon helpfully.

“I know that! But which side of the road are we on!”

“Let’s walk along a bit and see the names of the streets on this side of the road. Then you can check them in your guide, and we’ll know whether we’re going the right way or not!”

Father considered that Simon’s orienteering course was perhaps not wasted after all! That seemed good sense, though he didn’t say so. He still found it a bit hard to be put right by one of his children!

Caroline was saying nothing. She had noticed that several of her friends had posted comments on Facebook about her recent contacts with John Bond.  They were completely over the top of course, he was just being helpful, that was all. She found herself coming to his defence in her mind when she saw that he was being referred to as “that nerd” or “that creep”! She wondered what he would make of it. Probably he didn’t use Facebook, but someone would surely delight in telling him what was going on! Anyway, the whole business had upset her, and she didn’t feel like sharing it with the rest of the family either.

“Yes, this is right!” said Dad. “We are going the right way. We need to turn down here and it should be on the left.”

It soon became obvious that they were in the right place. There were a number of children milling around, probably a school party thought Caroline. She wondered where they had come from. They seemed to be reading names on a wall. Then she remembered Dr Bond telling her about the wall of the “Righteous”, men and women who had risked and sometimes lost their lives to help and rescue Jewish families. She wondered if Marion Oakes, the lady who had rescued the baby called Eric Krauch was named there. She still couldn’t think of Eric as her Grandad.  But maybe soon, they would know for sure?

The entrance to the Museum was through a complicated system of doors and then a scanner such as they had passed through at airports. Mother was astonished at the security and asked what could possibly be so important as to require this level of protection.

“It’s not that” said Dad. “It’s the threat of terrorists that they’re concerned about. This is a Jewish museum, and this place is a sitting target!”

So it was rather uneasily that the family entered the museum, partly as a result of the tight security, and partly because with their limited French, they didn’t know how they were going to achieve what they had come for. They were about to follow all the other visitors when Caroline spotted a sign at a desk bearing the word “Recherche”

“I think we need to go there” she said.

The girl behind the desk looked up, smiled, and said something in French. Caroline looked helplessly at Simon, who was pretending to examine a poster on the far wall.

“Are you English?” asked the girl.

“Yes!” replied Caroline. “How did you know?”

“Oh it’s easy to tell! Your clothes for a start, and the fact that you just spoke to your father in English! Now, how can I help you?”

Caroline explained the purpose of their visit, and the girl, whose badge indicated that she was called ‘Monique’ showed them upstairs to one of the research rooms.

“There are a few formalities you will need to see to first” she said, “and you will need to leave your belongings in the lockers round the corner there. My colleague Sabine will explain everything to you. I hope that you will find what you are looking for!” -  and with that she was gone!

After they had stowed everything away in lockers except the pencils and exercise books they were allowed to keep, Sabine showed them to two computers. Simon and Caroline sat at one, mother and father at the other.  The assistant gave each couple a bundle of papers, the pages stapled together.

“This is a guide to the collection. It’s not an index, but it will show you what is in each folder. The collection is divided into eighty four boxes, each box contains a number of folders, and each folder has many pages in it. Do you know which office you are interested in?”

The family looked at each other uncertainly. Sabine saw their confusion, and asked whether they knew what camp the person they were trying to find had been in.

“Oh yes!” replied Caroline. “It was Rivesaltes”

“In that case, you will need to search the files of the Perpignan office. They are in boxes one to twenty. You need to look for name lists and letters referring to prisoners. Many of the folders are concerned with supplies and other routine matters – you don’t need to bother with them. The Rivesaltes camp was closed in November 1942, so you won’t need to look at anything dated later than that.” She smiled at them as they stood there looking somewhat overwhelmed. “It may seem like looking for a needle in a haystack at first, but you’ll soon get used to it. Do you understand French?”

Again they looked at each other, wondering who would answer first. Simon spoke up.

“I’m probably the best, but I’m not very good. Will all the records be in French then?”

“Not all of them, but probably most of them are. If you need any help, don’t hesitate to come to my desk and ask.” With another smile, she walked away and left them staring at their screens.

“This is a blow!” said Dad. “I didn’t think that we were going to have to read French! Maybe it would be best if we swapped places. You sit with me Caroline, and Simon – you help your mother!”

 

It must have been two hours later when Simon shouted “Hey! Look at this! I think we’ve found it!”

Several other researchers in the room looked up in surprise and Simon muttered an embarrassed “Sorry!”, followed by “Er – pardon!” as he realised where he was.

The family gathered round the screen. They read:

 

To: Marion Oakes

From: Joan Groves

Date: September 10th, 1942

 

Dear Marion,

We have just received the following cable from our London office, and will appreciate any news you can report to us in regard to this case:

“ SPECIAL URGENT REQUEST YOUR HELP THROUGH PERPIGNAN OFFICE ASSISTANCE CASE 57 ERIC KRAUCH AND FAMILY ILOT K BARAQUE 35 RIVESALTES STOP”

This is the case we wrote you about on September 7th. We wonder whether the whole family is still in Rivesaltes, or whether it has been deported already. Can you investigate for us and let us know as soon as possible? Thanks so much for your trouble in this matter.

 

Sincerely yours

Joan Groves

 

“Wow!” cried Simon. “This is it!”

“But it doesn’t give the names of the family members” objected Dad. “We still can’t be sure it’s my father’s family.”

“Try moving on” said Caroline. “These letters are often answered a few pages later. I’ve noticed that several times.”

Simon scrolled down the screen. Each page was in English which made the search much easier than they had feared.

“What’s this?” said Dad. They read:

 

To: Joan Groves

From: Marion Oakes

Date: 12th September 1942

Dear Joan,

In reply to your letter of September 10th, we know the case of Eric Krauch and his family quite well.  The father has been sent away temporarily to some labour camp in the north. The mother and the children are all still at Rivesaltes. The two children will probably be liberated this evening from the Camp of Rivesaltes and we are sending them to Vernet-les-Bains.

 

There was a lot more about another family, but Caroline was not reading any further.

“This must be right!” she said. “But I don’t understand – it says ‘two children’ Who’s the other one?”

“Perhaps it was a child from another family” suggested Mother.

“No –it definitely says ‘the two children’. Grandad must have had a brother or a sister” objected Simon.

“Well, in that case why didn’t that French organisation that John found mention that there was another child?” demanded Caroline. She fished in her bag and produced the email John had given her. “Here it is, look! It just says ‘he was rescued by Miss Marion Oakes’. Surely they would have said if there were two of them?”

“And we still don’t know for sure that Grandad was one of them” said Simon. “Though the dates add up, and the fact that they were being sent to that Vernet-les-Bains place can’t be a coincidence.”

Father stood up and stretched. “We’re getting tired! We’ve done enough for today. We’ve still got tomorrow. Let’s pack up for now and find something to eat!”

Mother said “I know the very place, it’s somewhere in that main road. It’s called the ‘BHV’, the Bazar de Hotel de Ville. There’s bound to be a restaurant there.”

“What sort of place is it then?” asked Simon.

“It’s a big department store. I was reading about it in a magazine the other day.”

Simon looked at his father and rolled his eyes.

“Come on then, lead the way!”

That night, Caroline lay on her bed and images from the pages she had read flashed through her mind. She tried to picture what life must have been like for the families held there in the camp, and it was some time before she was asleep and even then, in her dreams she continued the search for her grandfather’s family.