Chapter 11 - The Tragic Provinces
Alsace and Lorraine are the frontier Provinces of France, with a long succession of tragic happenings.
Belonging first to Germany, even before Germany became a whole united country, it then became French until the Franco-Prussian war of 1870.
Of course there were people living in it who had belonged first to one nation and then to another, and there were families where the son or daughter had married someone from the neighbouring nation crossing the frontier quite easily and naturally. But hot feelings came with the force of arms, and when the country was invaded and wrenched from France to become a part of Germany again, those of German origin and leanings rejoiced, whilst the others were torn with misery.
The French nation grieved for the loss of all Alsace and part of Lorraine, and for years, in the great Place de la Concorde in Paris, the statue representing the town of Strasbourg was continuously decorated with flowers and black ribbons, as a sign of mourning for the lost territory.
I n the great War of 1914, with bitter fighting, France regained licr lost child, which through the intervening years had gained a population with such divergent aspirations and mixed feelings and loyalties.
With its rich soil and valuable vineyards, miles of forest, the wide spacious valleys of the Rhine, and rolling heights of the Vosges, this part of France has unique charm and a character all its own.
Then grim tragedy came again, with the invasion in 1940, and armies walked in, driving people from their homes and farms, taking others as hostages to work in Germany, and for those long war years, anxiety, oppression, insecurity, misery and sorrow and terror, reigned over that fair land.
liberation came in November. 1944, the French General Leclerc sweeping on with French soldiers to relieve French people, and driving away their conquerors with some of the worst battles of the
war.
Suffering has taken its toll of those brave people, and as I toured through that countryside, on every hand I saw the cruel
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signs of desperate warfare. Heaps of broken stones told where houses had stood, remains of old tanks and cars and guns lay in heaps by the side of the road, bridges across the rivers were crumpled, twisted bits of iron lying in the water, and where there were people at all, they were ' making do ' in whatever parts of their houses remained and could be used at all.
At Epinal a crowd of Scouts and Guides greeted us in the courtyard of the old Prefecture, cheering and enthusiastic in spite of pouring rain, and when we came to St. Die they were there too—just a tiny group, gathered together amongst the ruins, surrounded by shattered walls. As far as I could see, not one house had been left standing. The place had been deliberately destroyed, house by house, with incendiary bombs thrown into each cellar in turn on the last day of the Germans occupation.
I shall never forget that little group of boys and girls at St. Die. There was no uniform ; they had not been able to do any Scouting or Guiding, and they had been hounded about, living in fear of their lives for years, and many had lost all their relations and friends in one way or another.
But they had kept their courage, and there they were, banded together now, as Scouts and Guides, carrying flags, formed up into a hollow square in a bitter wind, awaiting me and giving me a present of a water-colour painting of their ruined village,_ so that I might remember them as one branch of my family—OUR family—YOUR family—so plucky and eager to do their best in spite of everything.
How I hope that their tide has turned, and that as time goes on, a better fortune may come that way and we shall hear of their Guiding and their Scouting being carried on happily and with success.
At Rothau, on that same day in May, Scouts and Guides tumed out to greet me as I hastened on my way, and one of the nicest Wolf Cub Packs that I have ever met arranged a Rally for me at the far-away little mountain village of Wildersbach.
Their den was hung with ivy, and decorated with what flags they could get; on the floor was chalked a large Wolf's head, and standing round the edge of this the Sixes each gave me their special Howl.
Far away from everywhere it seemed, but no matter; our ritual, our spirit and our ways in Scouting and Guiding are universally the same.
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