Chapter 12 - Strasbourg and the Sanctuar
Continuing my tour we arrived at Strasbourg, such a beautiful old town, with ancient churches, narrow streets with quaint little houses all jumbled and tumbled and squeezed together, their roofs higgledy-piggledy at all angles, and alleyways leading into big, open squares, with statues and avenues and gardens.
Shells had been falling in the town only three weeks before we got there, and two Guiders were killed ; but just as we arrived the great news came through that the war was ending, and that an armistice might come at any minute.
The townspeople here had been through a terrible hard and
ragic time. Hundreds of their relations were deported and taken prisoner, food was scarce, transport was non-existent, and always they were told that Germany would win the war. Nobody was allowed to speak their own French language and. even to pass the time of day with your friend, or whispering bon jour, might be your downfall : to show your affection for France or to speak in her favour was an imprisonable offence.
But the spirit of these Alsatians was never broken, and with their doors and windows tightly shut, they listened to the truth about the war and the world as .given by the B.B.C. each night, their secret, precious radio sets hidden maybe under the blankets in bed.
Going along the road from Nancy to Strasbourg, I happened to see some queer little notice boards, and found that we were travelling through miles and miles of mine-fields, and that these notices announced that just the roadway itself had been cleared up to a certain distance on each side. As the enemy retreated they had sown the land with small mines, burying them only hurriedly joust below the surface, all over the fields and the forest and everywhere.
This was terrible, not only for the advancing armies but also for the civilian population, for in this way a farmer going off to plough the fields would be blown up, and might be injured or killed; women walking across from one village to another, or children wending their way to school, all did so at the risk of their lives.
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The cattle, too, grazing in the paddocks were frequently killed, and one Troop of Scouts that I met had won great gratitude and distinction by constituting themselves as a sort of ' rescue squad,' going out when an animal was killed to cut it up and bring it in piece by piece. You could not let a dead animal's body rot lying there because meat was far too valuable to be allowed to go to waste. This. was a very exceptional piece of service, and I was so glad to be able to meet those Scouts and to present them with a Certificate of Merit, awarded by their French Scout Headquarters.
Strasbourg Scouts and Guides have kept going through all their fearful experiences, and at a meeting of Scouters and Guiders several gave the most thrilling accounts of their experiences in the 'Resistance,' telling of many vitally important secret missions — how they had eluded being caught, as well as how they had suffered in prison when they had been captured—and all spoke of how much the Scout-craft they had leamed when they were young had helped them to carry out their unique service to their country at her time of greatest need. When things got too hot for them, many had had to ' go to ground ' like foxes in the Vosges Mountains, and even the important Commissaire de la Republique ' —a doctor of high standing, rather like a ' Lord Lieutenant ' here in the counties of England—told me that he had gone about with a beard, dressed in torn, shabby overalls and sabots, quite disguised for days on end and sleeping anywhere—in barns, or hidden in some tiny cottage loft, or even out of doors or in a mountain cave—to evade capture.
High on the hills, about thirty miles from Strasbourg, is the famous holy sanctuary called ' St. Odile, ' a pilgrim place, where, for centuries past, people have come to be healed and comforted, where tired folk have rested, and unhappy people have found peace of mind, A spirit of beauty and quiet and goodness wraps the visitor round with calmness and refreshment for anxious hearts.
Here the refugees found safety in the grimmest period of the world's history; and many times during the war years, Guiders collected together there in secret, coming separately from different parts of the Province, to foregather and regain inspiration to keep going in their tasks.
And the same Scouters and Guiders, putting away their own personal hardships and their anxious trials, kept up the standard of Scouting and Guiding for their boys and girls, so that in spite pf all they had to stand up to, a Rally took place during my
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visit, with a most stirring 'Jeu Dramatique,' given out in the open in front of the huge University buildings. This depicted the history of their Cathedral, and its origin, and was written and acted by Scouts and Guides in old-fashioned costumes.
The Master Architect is a man called Erwin of Steinbach, and as he carefully carves the stately pillars that are to support its roof, a peasant comes and jeers at him, saying that they will not be strong enough. He is horrid and very rude.
So the sculptor carves into a pillar the sinister and distorted face of the peasant, so that for all time he shall be seen in the stone, mocking and ugly, watching for the Cathedral to fall.
This theme of the Cathedral's history had been all carefully thought out and put into scenes, and one specially funny one was about some people called Roraffe.' These were three dwarf-like folk, and it was said that if you hid behind them, carved as they were high on the Cathedral wall, you could say anything you liked and it would not be heard.
Of course, all this led to fearful trouble, because people, believing it to be true, began saying the most outrageous things, and had to pay for it later.
The Guides and Scouts acted these stone figures awfully well, and then as a climax they all came to life, and continuing more scenes through various phases of local history, they ended with a lovely song, with a haunting tune, and these words :
On the roads of France
So many boys died for liberty
So many crosses were erected
On the roads of France.
On the roads of France
So much love did pass
So many flowers did grow
On the roads of France.
On the roads of France
So much hope did rise
Of a redeemed country
On the roads of France.
And from all I saw, and all that I heard, and all that I now know, I am convinced that the Scouts and Guides — in their work
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and in their play, in their enthusiasm and in their goodness of heart — are indeed playing their part in the redemption of their country.
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