CHAPTER 1
The name Oradour-sur-Glane means nothing to most people living outside France, even if it is linked with an appalling massacre. I have even met French people who admit ignorance of it. Most concise histories of the Second World War include Lidice and the reason for its extermination. But Oradour is strangely overlooked, perhaps because the motive is still controversial.
I first read about the massacre in a French magazine and was amazed that I had not heard of it before. I was shocked by the details of the slaughter of so many people and, when I read that the ruins had been preserved, being an investigative journalist, I felt that I had to go there, to try to find out what really happened.
It was the start of a long period of research. According to the map, I had to head for Poitiers and take the Route Nationale 147 to Limoges. Travelling towards Limoges, I saw many signposts bearing names which meant nothing to me. I was beginning to think I had missed the turn and would soon arrive in Limoges.
Entrance to the village shortly after the installation of the tramway (note the size of the tree behind the four figures).
A view of the church at the main entrance to the ruins.
Then, suddenly, there it was, ORADOUR-SUR-GLANE, with nothing to indicate that it was vastly, terribly different from the other villages.
Reality presented two immediate surprises: the warm colour of the ruins, intensified by the evening sun, and the proximity of the church to the main entrance. I had visualised it at the far end. The new village, off to the left, was a cluster of modern, buildings dominated by a large church with a tall, square-cut tower. To anyone who doesn’t know the full terrible story the ruins may seem little more than a curiosity. They are enclosed in a low wall and have three gated entrances that are locked at night.
At each entrance there is a sign which reads simply: SOUVIENS-TOI. REMEMBER. Another sign says visitors should be correctly attired, conduct themselves with decorum, and not go into the houses. Dogs are excluded.
Entrance is free.
The first group of buildings, on the right flanking a pleasant green with trees, bears the notice SILENCE. The roofless church, which once had a steeple, dominates the main entrance. It was the scene of the worst act of the tragedy: the slaughter of hundreds of women and children whose screams were heard for miles around. One can see the window, identified by a tablet, through which Madame Rouffanche, the sole survivor, escaped. The grille which once covered it is still bent outwards, marking the passage of her body. There is a large tablet near the main entrance which tells what happened in the church. It has been fixed to the wall near a crucifix which, claims the inscription, was unscathed.
The remains of a sewing machine.
The main street, the Rue Emile Desourteaux, is still bordered on the right, as one ascends between the ruined houses, by the tramlines which linked Oradour with Limoges. The roofless tram station where the line branches into two tracks is about midway up the street.
Plaque outside the bakery of Thomas Ragon. Note the misspelling.
As one walks through the ruins a feeling of desolation is augmented by one of a sudden extinction of life, as at Pompeii. The whole population, apart from a few who miraculously got away after the arrival of the SS, died during the afternoon. They were taken from their homes in that picturesque place – even in ruins it is far more attractive than the new village – just after lunch on 10 June, 1944 and herded like cattle to their deaths.
In the ruined kitchens are the remains of saucepans, frying pans, coffee grinders and other utensils, abandoned just as lunch had finished, or even while the meal was being prepared for those who worked late on the land. Garages contain the rusty wrecks of cars. Fire-buckled bicycles hang from nails an walls. No one had a chance to use them to escape. Some houses contain rusty sewing machines, a few of which seem to have been purposely placed on window sills to display the industry of their dead owners. It was a busy little rural community. Unfortunately in these days of widespread vandalism, souvenir hunting and the cynicism of some young people towards the ruins it is likely that over the years some of these things have disappeared. It should not be difficult to gain access after dark.
The Champ de Foire, the village green where the people were assembled by the SS, is on the right of the main street going up. It must have been a delightful place before the war with its varied architecture, trees and covered communal well. Now it is bordered by the empty shells of houses, one of which bears a plaque telling of the assembly.
On the grass are the rusty, wheeless remains of the car which belonged to the village doctor who arrived back from his rounds just as the round-up had been completed. He joined the others. Across the green lie the memorial grounds. A wide, hedged lawn leads to a bench-like arrangement of stones on the roof of a crypt. The crypt contains stone tablets bearing the names and ages of all the victims. In side chambers are display cabinets set in stone holding personal possessions found among the charred human remains: wedding rings and other jewellery, watches, pocket knives, a cigarette case pierced by a bullet, a denture and other such items. Most have been distorted by fire.
A notice inside the main entrance. Silence is difficult to observe in a party.
The Hotel Beaubreuil (nearest ruin) in the main street.
Beyond lies the cemetery, dominated by a column which marks the communal grave of 642 people. The stone platform bears two glass-topped coffins in which is displayed a collection of blue-grey human bone fragments. The most pitiful sight is, of course, the family tombs bearing inset photographs of the dead. Whole families are pictured with inscriptions after their names indicating that they were ‘killed’ ‘massacred’ or ‘burned’ by the ‘Nazis’ or ‘Germans’ on 10 June 1944. Some of them bear plastic or porcelain flowers. Some are garish and blatant in their silent expression of grief. The more discreet – such as a plain stone with a single picture of a pretty girl embedded in it and an insciption giving only her name and dates of birth and death – are the most impressive.
People walk quietly about the cemetery peering at the inscriptions. Children read them aloud without understanding their full implications. Some pose against headstones to be photographed.
Six tablets in various parts of the village identify the buildings in which all the men were lined up to be shot. Each bears the inscription:
Notice outside the church reads:
Here hundreds of women and children were massacred by the Nazis. You who pass by, think of them. You who are believers, pray for the victims and their families. All that remains standing outside is the Cross of Christ. Inside is the statue of Notre Dame de Lourdes and Bernadette, ‘Come to me, you who are suffering.’ said Christ. Heed these words says the Virgin.
ICI LIEU DE SUPPLICE. UN GROUPE D‘HOMMES FUT MASSACRE ET BRULE PAR LES NAZIS. RECEUILLEZ-VOUS (Place of execution. A group of men were massacred and burnt by the Nazis. Think of them.)
They are barns, garages and a smithy. In some, bullet holes can be seen in the brickwork. A large barn or coachhouse in the Rue du Cimetière is identified as the place from which six men escaped – the only survivors of the fusillades which killed 190 men. Five of them got out through a hole in a door at the rear. A sixth tried another way out and was later found dead, halfway through a fence.
There is a tablet outside a gutted bakery, (one can still distinguish the sign BOULANGERIE over the shop window) telling that human remains were found in the rusty ovens one can see inside. A farmyard well is identified as the tomb of a number of unknown people.
In the gardens at the rear of the houses are wells, many still holding water. There was no piped water in the village so there are privies, mostly two-seaters, at the bottom of the gardens.
An untended vine climbs a dead wall to a bathroom which still has its iron bath. A rusty gate into a lane has been pierced by bullets. Several people were found hiding in their gardens and shot on the spot. Some of the houses bear tablets commemorating their inhabitants. One, fixed to the ruins of the home of the mayor, Dr Jean Desourteaux, and his son, Dr Jacques Desourteaux, has been contributed by the Association Amicale des Médecins du Maquis et de la Resistance.
The most awe-inspiring sight is, of course, the interior of the church. It is calm and open to the sky. Yet anyone with any degree of sensitivity must surely feel the atmosphere and visualise the terrible event that occurred there. There is a battered pram in front of the damaged altar, a symbol of the many in which babies soon to be slaughtered were wheeled into the church by their frightened mothers. On the right, as one faces the altar, is the door against which a pile of burnt bodies was found. On the left, next to the altar, is the door to the vestry which was burst open by frantic, screaming women and children trying to get away from the asphyxiating fumes of the smoke-generating device that the SS placed in the nave. The door has been replaced and is locked.
The bakery where two bodies were found in the oven.
The window through which Madame Rouffanche made her escape is directly behind the altar. In the left transept is a chapel with a small altar which is less damaged. Behind it is a wooden confessional which miraculously escaped damage by the flames. Yet the heat was so intense that it melted the bells which are now nothing more than a mass of distorted bronze near the main entrance. A uniformed guide tells the terrible story as a sort of recitation to the curious visitors. The church is kept locked when he is not around.
The ruins comprise a total of 254 buildings. They have been preserved as a unique and immensely impressive monument to the dead. But not everyone agrees with this. Young people, particularly those with German friends, tend to regard the ruins with disdain. In fact, many people think the village should have been rebuilt. The Germans offered to do this after the war. Others feel that the village should have been restored, with the exception of the church which should be kept as a permanent memorial. It would certainly have been a more picturesque village than the new one. The new village was completed in 1953 but it took years to achieve full occupation, which is understandable. The establishment of two factories helped to attract residents. However, there were many disputes over inheritance rights. In so many cases direct heirs had died and distant cousins turned up to claim their inheritance.
Madame Rouffanche spent most of her long life in a cottage in the new village. Although her right arm and leg had been crippled by bullets she made an annual visit to the church where the rest of her family (except her husband) died. She spent the last years of her life in an old people’s home and died in 1988 at the age of 91. Almost the entire population of the new village turned out for her funeral in a heavy storm. She was buried in the cemetery of the old village where her family lie.
The Champ de Foire where the people were assembled before being escorted to the execution sites.
The remains of Doctor Desourteaux’s car on the Champ de Foire.
Ruins bordering the Champ de Foire.
The shell of a villa on the Champ de Foire. Possibly the home of a commuting businessman.
An execution site. The plaque reads: A place of sacrifice. A group of men were massacred and burnt here by the Nazis.
Doorway to a hall showing tiled floor.
The car of of Doctor Desourteaux in front of the Milord ironmongery. Note the gas-generating apparatus at the back. It provided combustion instead of petrol, (compare with the picture of the car on the Champ de Foire where it seems to have been stripped of its gas apparatus and moved to another position). This is one of the photographs taken by Pierre Poitevin, the Limoges journalist, while there were still soldiers in the ruins.
The wreck of a car at the junction of the main street with the road leading to Saint-Julien.
Today the new village is a prosperous community with hotels, restaurants, a supermarket and a tourist office. The main attraction is the Centre de la Mémoire (Memorial Centre) situated just outside the village. Opened by President Jacques Chirac in April, 1999, it contains photographs, documents, maps and memorabilia, concerned with the massacre and other events up to the Bordeaux tribunal in 1953. There is also a history of the Nazi regime and the progress of the war before and after Oradour.
The monument to the 642 dead. Memorial plaques can be seen in the background.
During the night of 27 December 1999 a hurricane swept over France, causing great damage in all parts of the country. The ruins were hit in several places and, for the first time in nearly sixty years, were closed to the public. Extensive work was required to make the buildings safe. But the closure only lasted a week.
One event unconnected with the massacre is worthy of note. On the night of 23 November, 1943 a crippled Wellington bomber of the RAF made a forced landing near Oradour. The six members of the crew were sheltered in the village for three nights before the Resistance arranged their transport to Toulouse before crossing into Spain. They all returned safely to Britain.
Visitors are requested not to walk on the tomb.
