To mark the 80th anniversary of the liberation of Toulouse, the Museum will hold a series of events exploring the work of PRUNUS, a relatively unknown circuit. Some 15 family members of the original group will gather to share memoirs and stories. A performance of Maurice and other circuit members’ poetry will follow.
The talks will be filmed, so stay tuned for more about this historic event!
« Le réseau toulousain de Résistance franco-britannique longtemps ignoré : PRUNUS »
Maurice PERTSCHUK, dit Martin PERKINS, chef du Réseau
par Mme Anne WHITESIDE, sa nièce
Dr en linguistique appliquée, San Francisco (USA)
Conférence donnée dans le cadre des commémorations « 80 ans après ».
Un ensemble de manifestations pour célébrer les évènements qui se sont déroulés de juin 1944 à l’armistice de mai 1945 en France.
Hôtel d’Assézat, Salle Clémence Isaure, rue de Metz (Entrée gratuite).
Mardi 5 novembre 2024 à 17h30.
A vingt ans, Maurice PERTSCHUK a passé une année clandestine comme agent de« l’armée secrète » de CHURCHILL à travailler avec la Résistance française. Débarqué sur la Côte d’Azur au printemps 1942, il dirige un réseau de diffusion de propagande anti-Vichy, de renseignement puis de stockage d’armes pour sabotage. Alors que l’opposition aux occupants grandissait, le renseignement allemand commença à infiltrer les circuits de Résistance. Un complot visant à faire exploser une usine de poudre à canon expédiant des produits chimiques en Allemagne s’est transformé en un piège : PERTSCHUK et plusieurs de ses compagnons ont été arrêtés puis déportés.
A Buchenwald, où il a réussi à cacher le fait qu’il était juif pendant 14 mois, PERTSCHUK a commencé à composer de la poésie lyrique, écrite sur des morceaux de papier récupérés, un recueil qu’il a appelé « Feuilles de Buchenwald », d’où est tiré « La LUNE en ECLAT ». Il a été exécuté seulement 13 jours avant la libération du camp mais sa poésie survit, sauvée par des amis, publiée en 1946 et à nouveau en 2003.
Seventy-five years ago yesterday, my valiant 23-year-old uncle Maurice Pertschuk was executed at Buchenwald. Those who knew and loved him will never forget; in his poetry, his luminous spirit survives.
Sadly, as the rate of Coronavirus infections in France grew, I made the decision not to head to Toulouse. Good thing, I would have been there last Friday, when the Spanish President declared a shut down. With Spanish borders likely to close next week, we flew home yesterday.
Be safe everyone. The Resistance teaches us that the creativity and humanity of ordinary people eventually triumph over fear, greed and xenophobia. As one Italian grandmother put it, this will pass but xenophobia leaves lasting damage.
I’m happy to say I’ll be meeting in March with the staff of the Toulouse Resistance Museum and five other relatives of PRUNUS members. The mission of this network of resistance museums, which many French “départements” have, is to educate the public about two legacies: the (proud) history of resistance and the (shameful) history of the deportation of Jews and other “undesireables.”
After reading about my research, the museum director invited a group of us to meet with researchers there. I’m so pleased that other members of PRUNUS families: Sonia Fayman, Jean-Louis Rey and Georges Beauchemin, will be joining us. We’re hoping to re-open the topic of French-British collaboration during the war, and SOE’s role in the resistance of the Toulouse region.
…to a gathering in the Carmel highlands, three friends in their 90s, two of whom lived through the tumultuous years my book covers: Lotte Marcus and George Hahn, both Viennese Holocaust survivors who’ve written movingly about their own experiences.
At age 10 Lotte left Vienna for China with the only exit visa she and her family could get. They spent the next 9 years starving slowly in a Shanghai Jewish ghetto, during which time her father died. With her mother depressed and grieving, it was left to Lotte to support them. Her jobs included working in a clinic and playing the accordion for change. In 1945, they got visas to the US; first stop, the American south, where on a train, dark-skinned Lotte was told to move to the “colored” section . It’s a story with a Hollywood ending: she found work and married a screen-writer there.
November 11, 1938, the day after Kristalnacht, twelve-year-old George Hahn and his aunt hid from Nazi thugs by riding streetcars until nightfall, when he was able to sneak back to his apartment. His mother, desperate to get him out of Austria, signed him up for one of the last “kinder-transport” trains to Holland. George spent the next 18 months at Dutch camp for Jewish refugee children, while back in Vienna, his mother worked to get her husband released from Buchenwald. Reunited in Belgium in 1939, the Hahn family procured visas, first to the Dominican Republic, then to the US. After a rough start in New York City, they settled in Sacramento, California. George later served in the US army, and was hired by the Army Counter Intelligence Corps, the outfit, he says with chagrin, that helped Klaus Barbie escape to Bolivia! Years later, George learned that the children remaining at his Dutch camp after he left were sent to extermination camps.
Lucky for the world these two survived: Lotte created a school for migrant farm-workers and became a clinical psychologist, George, a cancer researcher and Stanford professor. A great privilege to get their take on things.
Thanks to all who came to the reading yesterday. And to the amazing Loretta Greco, who organized it. An honor to share the day with Joshua Harmon and his brilliant new play, Prayer for the French Republic.
I’m delighted to announce that I’ll be reading from the “Moon in Splinters” at the Magic Theater’s Virgin Play Festival, which holds staged readings of “compelling new works from emerging and mid-career playwrights.”
I’ll be reading at a pre-performance “salon” in conjunction with a new play by Joshua Harmon (Bad Jews, Significant Others, Admissions, Skintight) called “Prayer for the French Republic” that explores many of the same themes as “Splinters.”
Here’s what Magic has to say about Prayer for the French Republic, directed by David Cromer: “Moving fluidly within the past and present of five generations of the Benhamou family, Prayer for the French Republic illustrates the history of trauma and prejudice embedded within the Jewish identity. What does home look like in a world that hates? When will we admit that we, as a global society, have not come nearly as far as we thought?”
Those of you who saw “Bad Jews” at the Magic know how this acclaimed and talented playwright puts us in uncomfortable places while we belly-laugh. Please join!!