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City of Lights
The Blood of Free Men: The Liberation of Paris, 1944, by Michael Neiberg (Basic, 352 pp., $28.99)


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Choltitz, who had arrived only on August 9, wanted to keep the city open as a transport hub as long as possible, but “he also had no wish to see his name forever associated with the destruction of the city unless doing so could help the German Army in some significant way.” There were plenty of fervent Nazis in the Wehrmacht and SS who would not have hesitated to carry out Hitler’s orders, but Parisians were fortunate that Choltitz was war-weary and rational enough not to be one of them, so the City of Light survived largely intact. (If you ever want to really irritate a Frenchman, just suggest that Paris should erect a statue to its savior, Dietrich von Choltitz.)

Just before he left Paris, after surrendering to the lightly armed Forces Françaises de l’Intérieur (FFI), Choltitz gave Pierre Taittinger, the pro-Fascist mayor of Paris, an autographed photograph of himself, citing their common “Christian and European” beliefs. Taittinger seems to have hated the Communists, the FFI, and the SS in almost equal measure, and Neiberg is particularly good at recreating the confusing state of affairs in Paris as former collaborators attempted to make their accommodation with the new realities of power. There were no fewer than a dozen separate organizations under the FFI umbrella, for example, many of which hated the collabos more than they hated the Germans and looked forward to a wholesale revenge during the “Épuration,” the purging of French society following the Wehrmacht’s withdrawal.

Much of this vengeance fell upon the thousands of women who had to suffer la tonte, the shaving of their heads for having slept with Germans. Neiberg estimates that somewhere between 100,000 and 200,000 children were born to German fathers and French mothers out of wedlock, an astonishing figure in only four years of occupation. “In my bedroom,” joked the French actress Arletty, “there are no uniforms.” (She was also supposed to have said: “My heart is French, but my ass is international.”) Yet while she and other high-profile performers of what was dubbed collaboration horizontale got away almost scot-free, other, less prominent women were beaten up, abused, and forced to walk the streets wearing placards round their necks stating such things as “Had my husband executed.”

Rather like the FFI itself, when it comes to historical narrative Neiberg is excellent at small-arms fire. He tells us that there was so little gas in January 1945 that it took 18 minutes to boil a cup of water; that people used to ride the Métro or visit the Louvre all day just to keep warm; and that when it looked as though the Germans might win the Battle of the Bulge in the Ardennes, after which Paris might fall to them once more, the capital’s prostitutes (in the words of an American pilot) “got rid of their English phrasebooks and dusted off their German versions.”

Neiberg is also good on the way the city endured blackouts, breadlines, black markets, and rationing. Through all the misery there were the jokes, themselves mostly black. One such was about a Jew who had killed a German soldier and eaten his heart at 9:20 p.m. “Impossible for three reasons,” went the punchline. “A German has no heart. A Jew eats no pork. And at 9:20 everyone is listening to the BBC.”

A joke in equally poor taste was Charles de Gaulle’s famous liberation speech from the Hotel de Ville, in which he somehow managed to present the liberation of Paris as having been almost entirely the work of his Free French forces and the French people. “Paris! Paris outraged! Paris broken! Paris martyred!” he began, in what was undoubtedly the greatest — but also most ruthlessly cunning — speech of his life. “But Paris liberated! Liberated by itself, liberated by its people with the help of the French armies, with the support and the help of all France, of the France that fights, of the only France, of the real France, of the eternal France!”

Only in the fourth paragraph did de Gaulle deign to mention, in a sub-clause, “the help of our dear and admirable Allies,” as though France could ever have been liberated without the Anglo-Canadian-American invasion of Normandy two months previously. Nowhere in the speech did he acknowledge explicitly the sacrifice of the Communists, the Paris Resistance, or the FFI. He referred to them only obliquely, thus, as Neiberg states, “disconnecting the Paris Resistance from the formal authority structure of the state.” It wasn’t so much a speech as a coup d’état. It was brilliant, timeless, pulsating oratory, and it was successful in what it set out to achieve, but it bore next to no relation to the reality of how Paris had been liberated. For that, one should turn to Professor Neiberg’s well-researched, well-written, and utterly absorbing account.

– Mr. Roberts is the author, most recently, of The Storm of War: A New History of World War Two.


Contents
January 28, 2013    |     Volume LXV, No. 1

Articles
  • Too many Republicans wanted us to take the plunge.
  • A lesson learned, unlearned, relearned, painfully.
  • Republicans should reclaim the 37th president.
  • Our mental-health system is failing those most at risk.
  • How Robert H. Bork galvanized a movement.
  • Personal attacks and cultural collapse did not reduce his joie de vivre.
Features
Books, Arts & Manners
  • Daniel Johnson reviews The Barbarous Years: The Peopling of British North America: The Conflict of Civilizations, 1600–1675, by Bernard Bailyn.
  • Elizabeth Powers reviews John Keats: A New Life, by Nicholas Roe.
  • Andrew Roberts reviews The Blood of Free Men: The Liberation of Paris, 1944, by Michael Neiberg.
  • Thomas S. Hibbs reviews The Invisible Hand in Popular Culture: Liberty vs. Authority in American Film and TV, by Paul A. Cantor.
  • Ross Douthat reviews Django Unchained.
  • Richard Brookhiser on the urban pigeon.
Sections
The Long View  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  
Athwart  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  
Poetry  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  
Happy Warrior  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .