Agnès Humbert’s story is a remarkable one. A middle-aged Parisian academic who – by her own admission – had lived a lot of her life through books, but who nevertheless found steel in her soul when the Germans invaded in 1940. Joining up with like-minded friends and acquaintances, all inspired by speeches by the exiled Charles de Gaulle, she worked within Paris to drive forward a resistance and keep the notion of a Free France constantly in French citizen’s minds. However, that is only the first part of this memoir, as Humbert and her cohorts were soon betrayed and she spent the rest of the war in dank prisons and then working as a slave labourer for the Nazis. The descriptions of what she and her fellow prisoners went through remain incredibly harrowing, but Humbert refused to allow her spirit to buckle – and it’s that resistance these pages chronicle.
Deep down in the British psyche there’s still a grudge towards the French at how easily they surrendered in The Second World War, so it’s refreshing and illuminating to read a first-hand account of the anger which flared up in Paris. Yes, there were people more than happy to collaborate with the invaders and with the new Vichy government, but there were others – right from the start – determined to disrupt the machine. Whether that was just sticking up banners for de Gaulle in toilets or other public places, or typing “Vive le général de Gaulle!” on banknotes (as no one could afford to throw away a banknote, so they’d have to be passed hand to hand) or more ambitiously starting an anti-Nazi newspaper, these were people who took great risks for what they believed.
But it wasn’t just the politically engaged Humbert met. One of the truly interesting things about the book though is how when Humbert was imprisoned, many of the other inmates were German. Women of the Fatherland who’d committed, in some cases, quite meaningless crimes but were given of years of hard labour in consequence. And even though they were members of Aryan race, they were not spared the cruelty of their captors. As that’s the conclusion Humbert reaches, that there was no shared ideology in Nazism, it just allowed certain Germans to give into their lowest impulses and hurt, humiliate and even kill other people.
Humbert herself was beaten, starved of food, water and medical treatment, and had her hand dipped in acid. And yet when recalling these dreadful moments, she is able to insert in moments of humour which show how well her spirit survived. Here she is on the moment her captors told her she was now a grandmother, but – for no reason other than spite – rudely refused to answer any of her follow-up questions: “What a peculiar sort of woman I must be. Not satisfied with knowing that I am a grandmother, I also have to know the sex of my grandchild, his name and whether my daughter-in-law is well. Doubtless German grandmothers are much less curious!”
Only the opening section of the book, before Humbert is captured, is an actual diary. When she was a prisoner it would have been almost impossible to do (and a risk not worth taking if she was caught). As such most of the book is written in the immediate aftermath of the war, however her anger at the various injustices and humiliations she and her fellow prisoners suffered is still sharp and painful . There are a few odd mistakes (America enters the war a month earlier than it should) and it does have an idealised view of Stalin’s Russia that was commonplace amongst the left in the thirties and forties, but this is a powerful, unremitting, compassionate and inspiring memoir.