Behind Enemy Lines: The True Story of a French Jewish Spy in Nazi Germany

by Marthe Cohn

In June 1956, I sailed to the United States with Major on the Ile de France. We were married in a civil ceremony on January 30, 1958, in St. Louis, Missouri. The half-hour ceremony was held at the Justice of the Peace’s office. It took place on my lunch hour during a split shift. I was a student in the School of Anesthesia of Barnes Hospital, Washington University, earning fifty dollars a month. Major was a resident in Internal Medicine in the same institution, on the same stipend. Once married, we’d get a hundred-dollar allowance for housing. Melvin and Ruby were our only witnesses. My simple gold wedding ring cost $4.50. Ten days later, in his parents’ home in Brooklyn, New York, we had an official ceremony presided over by a rabbi. Maman traveled all the way from Metz for the service and watched tearfully as we took our vows and Major stepped on the glass under the chuppah. I don’t think she ever thought she’d witness that day.