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The Ghosts of Izieu By
Arnie Greenberg (The Rhone-Alpes region of France, as seen in the photo above, is where the village of Izieu is located) My first exposure to Izieu was in the early nineties when a friend from the area took me to see this fascinating place. It was not yet a government-funded memorial but simply an old building with a plaque that explained its purpose -- that in the large but poorly kept building, 44 children and some of their teachers were arrested by German soldiers under instructions by Klaus Barbi, 'the Butcher of Lyons,' and sent first to Drancy and then to their deaths at Auschwitz-Birkenau "because they were Jewish." On My First Visit On my first visit I was not able to see the inside of the onetime school and refuge. But the 'safe' location atop a mountain and at the end of a tiny road seemed like the perfect place for the children to hide. They were as young as three and none were older than 16. There was no through traffic, as the road ended here high above a peaceful valley. They learned, played, baked bread or helped local farmers. They were certainly no threat to the sadistic Nazis.
(The formal opening of the Izieu site as a memorial to the Jewish children who perished at the hands of the Nazis)
One April morning, while the children were having their breakfast, trucks of soldiers came up the road and took them away. They all perished, except one who jumped from a rear window and escaped on foot across a meadow. As the trucks rolled down the dirt road, the children began yelling that one of their group was not Jewish. The truck stopped and the child was allowed to go free. Then the children began to sing: You
can capture our minds but not our hearts. These children had been placed here for safety by parents who, themselves, were trying to flee the grips of the Nazis. Barbie, who later denied they were arrested on his orders, had them arrested "because they were Jewish." Much of what happened came out at the trial of Barbie years later, when he was condemned for what took place due to the efforts of lawyer Serge Klarsfeld, who prosecuted him. A Tiny Hamlet Church Looks Down on the Site A wire fence surrounded the building when I was there, and a sign forbidding entry was easily visible. Cows moved along the road. In the distance the tiny hamlet church looked down on the sight. At the end of the road there was a cross with one of the arms broken off. In the church square brooding men sat on a bench near the war memorial for those Frenchmen who died in WWI. The silence was eerie. Only the sound of children playing could be heard. But remember, this was almost 50 years later.
(The base of a statue in memory of the children of Izieu) The
children's building was at one end of the town, surrounded by farm buildings.
From the terrace where the children once played, you could see the tops of mountains
all the way to the French Alps. Invited to Lecture As fate would have it, I was invited to lecture in a neighboring town, and through the efforts of the Mayor of nearby Culoz, it was arranged that the building be open for me while I was in the area. I was picked up in Lyons and driven to the site where a farmer's wife waited with a collection of keys. (A statue overlooks today's city of Lyons, where Arnie was picked up...)
The inside was untouched and, to my knowledge, had been photographed only by The New York Times. I walked around the empty building, accompanied by the sound of my footsteps on the wooden floors. Aside from a few childlike drawings, nothing hung on the walls. The fireplace was sealed and the furniture was gone. Standing Where the Children Sat I stood in the room, which showed signs of the mugs of hot chocolate the children were drinking when the Nazis arrived. I touched the coat hooks that once held the children's outerwear. I saw signs of graffiti in the dust on the mirrors. I stood at the open window from where Leon Feldheim jumped to freedom. He was 27 years old and on staff there in 1944. Outside I re-read names of Albert Bulka age 5, George Halpern who was 8, and Moise and Eva Reifman, their custodians, who were 63 and 61. I was shown the bake ovens, where the children made bread for the town. Some of the children worked on a nearby farm. They would have been spared, but it was a holiday on that day in April when the Nazi soldiers arrived. Two years later, I returned to discover that the house had been cleaned, furnished, dedicated by the Prime Minister and open for visitors to see. The barn next door was converted into a museum, which I toured after walking through the original house. The blackboards and desks, tables and chairs had been replaced. It had a different feel to it, but it was still moving. As I left the museum, I was approached by one of the staff members. She recognized me as the man she allowed in to take photos some years before. That cordial farmer was now well coiffed and slender. I hardly recognized her. But she was proud to show off the museum and tell of the hundreds of visitors who now discovered her hill village for very good reason. On the Road from Lyons to Chambery If you are on the road from Lyons to Chambery, look for this memorable and now peaceful hamlet. Their church has been rebuilt and instead of a dusty mountain road, there are smooth, paved surfaces and parking lots to receive the throngs. I will never forget the human tragedy that was Izieu. The house will always be alive, in spite of what took place within its walls. *The song refers to the fact that during the Franco Prussian War of 1870-1, Alsace and Lorraine were lands taken by the Germans. These lands returned to France after WW I, and the children were singing a song telling the Germans they would never take them again. Klaus Barbi was arrested in Bolivia and brought back to Lyons for trial. He was found guilty of war crimes and died shortly afterwords. (Click below for more travel).
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