The collaborator

The collaborator

fiction
edward w pritchard


France has many heroes but my Father was the man who saved the French way of life.
however, My Father was branded a collaborator when the German's occupied France in WW2

My Father loved France more than anything but in his job as protector of the Cognac stocks in the town of the same name, in Western France, was to my Father a sacred trust and he had to put the safety and continuation of the cognac stocks above Family and country. Both were necessary sacrifices he was forced to make in 1940.

Cognac the town, and the region around it produces a sour and thin wine with a powerful flavor that produces the finest brandy in the world. From time to time a vintage year will be declared, because that years harvest of grapes is exceptional and using only the grapes of that year, the grapes will be meticulously distilled, and then barrels and casks will be gently filled and kept silent and still for many years to age. The aging is an art and is supervised by a master. After aging the cognac is put into bottles and may then be stored for up to 75 to 100 years. The older vintage Cognac Brandy is very prized and it is in a sense priceless, although it is always for sale at the right price. Since 1700 French Cognac brandy has been considered the best in the world and in 1940 when the German's attacked France my Father's job was to protect the cognac stocks and to insure the continuation of  the Cognac industry.

The speed which with German troops overran and conquered Northern France was shocking to us in the town of Jarnac, which is about 18 km from Cognac. However, it was not until waves of refuges, refugees who five years ago would have never imaged themselves in that situation, began to arrive into the Cognac region from Paris and Northern France that the horror of our situation became reality to us. Historically there is an ancient rivalry between Jarmac and Cognac going back to the 1300's because an ancient king of France had granted special status and tax deferred privileges to the town Cognac for a variety of long forgotten reasons. Because of the royal privileges Cognac, the town was known world wide for it's grapes and Jarmac, the town over to the east, which many felt produced a superior brandy was unknown even at times to our own Countrymen in Paris.

When the refuges arrived from Paris in 1940 however, both towns joined together to provide shelter and relief to the crowds of terrified people coming South to escape the German invasion. My Father was an influential business man in the area and spearheaded the project to resettle the refugees and was considered a hero at the time because he used his organizational skills to find housing for the arrivals, and used his contacts to raise funds, and using his capacity for hard work, in less than a year the refuges were being housed, fed and some semblance of normality had returned to their lives.

The problem for them and us was normalcy meant the German's were ruling our Country and although they didn't treat us as uncivilized as we heard the occupied Countries of Poland or Czechoslovakia were being treated, most of us were numb from the realization that our beau Paris was in the hands of the Germans. The Germans were of course most interested in the Cognac brandy we had in our region and they began immediately after entering the Cognac region to requisition huge amounts of bottled Cognac Brandy. The German officers in Paris had began to appropriate fine French art from the Louvre, and numerous other items of value from us French, and as they admired their Art, and the German officer elite corps wanted a fine cognac to toast it with.

My Father skillfully began to represent the Cognac houses, such as Hennessy, Martel and others and although the German's conduct was high handed compared to normal business relationships, somehow my Father was able to get the Germans to not disturb the "sleeping" barrels of Cognac [until the master distillers said it was time to awaken it], and most remarkable my Father was able to get the Germans to pay for most of the bottled product, at least initially. The German's bought huge amounts of our Cognac Brandy at bargain prices but on the whole the survival of the Cognac industry seemed possible in 1940 despite the catastrophic destruction that occurred throughout France after the German invasion of 1940.

end part 1

The Collaborator
part 2

fiction
edward w pritchard

I knew my Father was going to die when I saw my Mother crying for it was much more surprising and unbelievable to me to see my Mother cry than it was for me to hear that the victorious Germans were strolling down the Champs Elysee or sitting at a cafe in the town of Cognac ordering around my Father in 1940 in occupied France. My Mother wouldn't cry ever; she had not cried when my younger sister died five years ago, and actually I hadn't ever seen my Mother express any emotion at all. I am sure looking back now years later , while writing this, that my Mother had some kind of emotion problem that kept her from expressing emotions in the normal way. Its funny how the epic events of WW2 pale in my memory compared to the more personal memory of my Mother sitting at the kitchen table ready to cry. Yet, then in 1940, she sat just short of sobbing in the kitchen as my Father called me an eleven years old boy to talk in his office . He closed the door to the kitchen and as he often did when he was troubled he opened a bottle of very expensive Cognac and ask me to sit down across from him at his Grandfather's desk.

This fine cognac is over 80 years old he said, as he handed me a small glass to taste, It has a fruity taste, like apples with a touch of vanilla, he said, at it's current age of 83 years, he continued as he looked at the date on the front of the odd shaped bottle. This cognac while it set in a bottle in 1870, had a different taste, and we the French were fighting with the Germans, who we then called the Prussians. Despite our superior culture they won that war because they were ferocious, unable to appreciate the finer things in life but obsessed with violence and able to wage war successfully against us. In 1916, this cognac, might have had a taste like walnuts, and we French were then fighting the Germans in WW1, at the battle of Verdun, where we defeated the Germans that day in 1916, but that day we lost world war 2, that we are now in. We lost the next war then because although we saved Verdun and inflicted more losses on our enemy we knew that each French casualty was a man, with a soul, and a love of the finer things in life, like this Cognac and our Art and fine food. We are different than our enemy, in that an individual life to us is precious and I cannot now allow the Germans to destroy Europe any further. I am telling you this son, as I just told your Mother, because I soon go to North Africa to die for my Country.

My Father continued , I thought nothing was more important to me than the Cognac industry here in Jarmac. For nearly twenty five years every day I have arisen before dawn and devoted my full time to protecting the interests of the Cognac industry and more importantly the Cognac casks that I am responsible for. Somehow however, I must let the survival of the Cognac industry in France be in the hands of God and I must go to Africa to help destroy the bulk of the French fleet now at Mers-el-Kébir. This will be difficult for you to understand, why I wish to sink our own ships; but I cannot allow the French fleet to be used by the Germans against the British who I believe are civilizations last chance to stop the forces of chaos.

I have traveled many times to England and have many friends in Bristol where we store our Casks of Cognac because of the wet climate there which helps certain kinds of Cognac in the aging process. The British are fighting pretty much alone for the continuation of civilized Europe. I know the people of France and they will hate the British for destroying the fleet because they still think at this time it is possible to negotiate and reason with the Nazi's. But I have my contacts in Poland and Eastern Europe and they tell me of horrors that I couldn't or wouldn't whisper to you.

So my Father received permission from the occupying Germans to go to Mers-el-Kébir to take a large shipment of bottles of VSOP Cognac to German officers but his real intentions were to spy for the British and provided information that would enable the British air force to destroy the bulk of the French fleet. The British had been given assurances by French politicians, temporarily collaborating with the Germans to save France, that the French fleet wouldn't be used against the British. The British leaders, like my Father  did not believe the assurances, not because our politicians lied but that they were being beguiled. My Father died in the bombing while on board the French battle ship, Dunkirk, ostensibly to bring Cognac to German officers nearby.

By dieing my Father protected me and my mother and also the Cognac industry for the Germans considered him as having died in battle and left My Mother and I alone for the balance of the occupation. The cognac industry was saved because a German citizen, born in Cognac, and in 1940 a sales agent of the distiller Martel working in Germany was transferred by the Germans back to France to oversee the Cognac industry. With a sympathetic overseer and God's help as we said later, the Cognac industry was saved.

The occupied French initially hated the British for destroying the bulk of our fleet at Mers-el-Kébiri in North Africa. However the continued aerial bombardment in December of 1940 and all through 1941 of London and most of Southern Britain awakened our Country to what my Father had realized about the Nazi's when he sacrificed his life to sink part of our own fleet. Ironically, as we French began to worsen our opinion of our occupiers, and the Free French Army under De Gaulle fortified our patriotism; my Father began to be called a collaborator, at least his memory, since he was dead of course.

No one knew until the War was over that my Father had taken secret steps to help destroy the French fleet at Mers-el-Kébir, in North Africa, to keep our fleet out of German hands and it was difficult to hear it implied that my Father was a traitor to France. My Mother and I couldn't say anything contrary until the German's left in 1944.

World wars are very complex and cause numerous changes. I sincerely believe that my Father's sacrifice in 1940 is what saved the French Way of life and civilization in Europe. Even today France still provides the world an appreciation of the finer things in life, including the finest Cognac Brandy civilization has ever produced.