Rouen


Soon after I got back to camp, the 563rd was sent to Rouen to act as military police in the city. What a ball. We patrolled the streets on foot and jeeps and sometimes guarded so-called strategic sites like major gas lines. As combat GIs and not real MPs, we also provided "unauthorized" taxi service for soldiers too drunk to walk back to their trucks for return to their camp. We were comfortably billeted in a fair sized building with our own mess hall. Early on, I believe it was at a street celebration for Bastille Day or something similar, I met a French family one evening in a crowd watching the fireworks and struck up a conversation with the father and, of course, his attractive daughter. They kindly invited me their home for coffee when it was over. A middle-class, educated family, it was very interesting to hear their prospective about the war. Of course, the citizens of Rouen, like all French people, were grateful for the role we had taken in liberating their country from the Germans but the citizenry had suffered terribly in the occupation, invasion and liberation of France.

Rouen, for example, located on the Seine River and a major transportation artery and port, had been heavily bombed in preparation for the invasion. The allied bombers were aiming at the wharfs and ships docked there but unfortunately a great many of our bombs wiped out almost the entire northern bank up to and severely damaging its famous cathedral near the city center. It was one vast wasteland (fifty-four years later, when I returned to Rouen with my son and saw the size of the area where restoration had long ago been completed, I couldn't believe its magnitude because now I could only see cathedral spires from a distance.) My French host was trying delicately to explain why many people in Rouen were unhappy or even bitter about the Allies. I am certain he was correct but I never encountered any animosity personally.

On Patrol

Most of time I patrolled the streets in the daytime, which was easy work, although sometimes a bit more challenging in the evening. It was easy to meet and chat with the pretty girls walking about, but unless you spoke French, not so easy to follow-up on. In a bar/café we frequented, I did make an interesting female acquaintance. She was a very pretty blonde woman who hung out with a girlfriend in the bar as a prostitute. We often chatted with them and she explained that she had a child and her husband had been killed in the war. Sometimes I would give her some candy and food for the child and cigarettes for her to sell. She felt obligated to explain that she and her friend wanted to buy a village café in the countryside outside Rouen and would quit what they were doing as soon as they had accumulated enough money. One night when we stopped bye, she and her friend were gone-they had obviously achieved their goal. I thought that was the last I would see of Jacqueline. However, a few weeks later as I was on street patrol in town, there she was sprightly walking with her full shopping basket. We talked and she was radiant in her happiness. She invited me to visit her and see her new place. It was located at least 20 km's out of town off the main road and would be a difficult journey but I promised to try and get out there as soon as I had some free time. I soon found the time, but on a Sunday when there was no bus transportation and little local travel because of the gas shortages. I easily caught a ride out of Rouen to the intersection with the road going to her town but not a single vehicle came along it and I must have walked at least 10 miles to reach it. They had a lovely little country café and I could understand why they would love it. After a welcoming drink and bite to eat, I could see they were busy and I was bushed, thought a short nap would be in order. She took me up to her bedroom and I promptly fell dead asleep. As I awoke in the late afternoon, probably at her instigation, there she was looking down fondly at me as she undressed, climbed in beside me and showed me her appreiciation for past kindness in the best way she knew. I am sure, and certainly hope, she went on to have a happy, prosperous and normal life. Hey, we all have to do tough things in perilous times.

Let the Good Times Roll

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