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 News Around the Republic of Mexico | February 2007 
The Last Time I Saw Paris
 MexicoCityCollege.com
Part VI of The Last Time I Saw Paris, as transcribed by MCC historian Joseph M. Quinn from two 1947 issues of Mexico City College's "El Conquistador."
Then I decided to take a new approach. I went to the Academie de Paris. Very obligingly they arranged a "special mission" for me. I had to go to Lyon (in the unoccupied zone) to "bring back some test papers for the Sorbonne."
I took my papers to the railroad station and was lucky to get a reservation. I found myself in a compartment with women, all of whom had some position with the Germans. When we reached the terminus of the occupied zone at Chalons, a German officer and interpreter entered the train. I arranged to make myself the last person to be inspected.
Fortunately the Germans are impressed by important titles and high sounding language. The interpreter told the officer: "Let her cross over. I can translate her letter, and she has a very important function."
So I went on into the unoccupied zone and got off the train at Ardeche. I saw a note on the wall at the station: I am at Le Cheylard." Again I recognized the handwriting. So I went to Le Cheylard and found my fiancé, without a franc. I learned that his card was one of the last pieces of mail to get through.
We had a delicious dinner (there was plenty of food in the rural regions, and this place was especially noted for its trout.) While we were eating, some of his comrades interrupted us and told my Charlie: "You must go at once. The Gestapo are looking for you." (The Gestapo had a complete record on Charlie. He was a disciple of the anti-Nazi Henri Barbusse and as a resident of the Saar region he had made many journeys into Germany to deliver propaganda to the anti-Nazi underground.)
So we had only one day together. I had brought many things for Charlie and had to leave them in Le Cheylard. Before dining we took a walk through the mountains and every few minutes a beautiful car loaded with Germans would come speeding by. We had to hide in the bushes to avoid being detected by their lights. It was a terrible ordeal for Charlie. Even the Vichy police were looking for him.
I had a friend in Aix-en-Province, in the region back of Marseilles. I called her on the telephone, and asked one question: "Is the mayor nice?" She understood what I meant and answered, "Yes, he is nice."
So we went to Aix. The first two men we saw on the way were civilians being taken away as prisoners. We wondered if we would be next. On the bus in route police got aboard and inspected papers. They got only half way through and stopped. Luck was on our side once more.
Later an Army comrade of my fiancé, a rather nice young fellow, came up to my fiancé, threw his arms around him and said: "Charlie Dauchat, comment ailezvous!" Charlie answered, "I think you are mistaken. You must have someone else in mind."
The man went away thinking he was crazy. It hurt Charlie to do a thing like that but it was absolutely necessary. Although we realized it would be terribly difficult without having Charlie's identity discovered, we had hoped to get married as soon as possible.
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