Robert Perry. September 2016

ORADOUR -sur- GLANE.     EXPEDITIONS. 1994, 1995, 1997.

The events to which this work relates took place on June the 10^th 1944.

To view a nine-minute supporting video click here.

 The remains of the village of Oradour, near Limoges in France, provide all too vivid evidence of what can be inflicted on innocent people by militant nationalism, intolerance, racism and warfare. I had been made aware for some time of the Second World War tragedy of Oradour during my many anti-war working visits to the First World War (1914-18) Battlefields and had felt that I ought to make the effort to visit this tragic Second World War (1939-45) site where Nazi SS troops massacred 205 children, 240 women and 197 men on the 10^th June 1944

THE FIRST VISIT 1994

After my annual pilgrimage to the Somme Battlefields on 1st July 1994 I continued the journey onwards to Oradour in order to make studies of the place at first-hand.

WHAT I FOUND
Exactly as it had been described to me by my friends in Albert, I found a scene of utter destruction.  The remains of a small French village preserved complete with its ruined church, garages, workshops, schools and houses containing the pathetic remains of everyday life, domestic cooking equipment, sewing machines, bicycles and various bits of fireproof furniture. Burnt out cars were still in the streets and collapsed garages.

When General Charles de Gaulle (Leader of the Free French Army in exile throughout the War) visited it at the end of the Second World War (1939-1945), he decreed that it be kept exactly as the Nazi SS troops had left it, as a lasting memorial to the villagers and all innocent victims of war. As a permanent reminder of the evils of Nazism and all other blind manifestations of ultra-nationalistic, ideological, political, religious or racist extremism and intolerance. During this first exploratory visit my work consisted of rather naïve superficial small scale studies in charcoal, pencil, ink and Gouache.

 Ruins of the church in which the Nazi SS troops murdered the women and children

THE EVENTS IN ORADOUR ON THE 10 JUNE 1944

2.00 pm.
Out of the blue, a convoy of  SS Troops arrive at the sleepy village. They throw a cordon around the village to prevent anyone leaving.

2.15 pm
The SS order all the inhabitants including the old and infirm to assemble on the village green under the pretext of checking their papers and searching the village for hidden weapons.

2.30 pm
The school-teachers are ordered to close classes and bring the children.

3.00 pm
The women (240)and children(205) are separated from the men(197) and marched away to the church. There is still nothing in the attitude of the troops to indicate any danger to the unsuspecting populace.

3.30 pm
The soldiers divide the men into six groups and march them in different directions, placing them in various open-fronted confined spaces, barns, garages, the smithy etc. Machine guns are set up to cover the men.

4.00 pm
An explosion is heard, and on this signal all the machine guns open fire on the men simultaneously. Troops move around finishing off any wounded they find, and then cover the bodies (and a few survivors) with hay, firewood, ladders and anything combustible, which they then ignite.

5.00 pm
Troopers detonate an explosive device which they had previously placed in the church. They then enter the church and fire into the women and children with machine guns. Straw, firewood and chairs are then piled onto the bodies (some still alive) and set on fire.

The whole village was then looted before being put to the torch and totally destroyed by fire, and then left by the Nazis. They returned two days later and dug two huge communal graves where they tried unsuccessfully to hide as much as possible of the evidence and human remains.

THE SECOND VISIT 1995

Deciding that I ought to revisit the preserved memorial site, in January 1995, I duly checked out the van’s equipment. plus warm clothes, sleeping bag and with other necessities for an uncomfortable few weeks and set off on the second of my 3 visits.

THE THIRD VISIT 1997

This was to be a more intensive programme of work and involved a considerable amount of planning and preparation. Research and prior correspondence with M. Poncet, Architect Principale de la Monuments et Batiments Historiqes de Limousin, resulted in my being granted authorisation to take my van (mobile studio) into the village, (normally gated and accessible only on foot) and also to work within the fenced off buildings, at any hour of the day or night.

Trying to anticipate every practical eventuality I prepared the van for a major expedition, fitting it out with its full complement of equipment including portable lighting system, the rooftop painting rig and the large side-mounted easel/transport unit.

I duly set out on 6 February 1997

Soon after my arrival I was privileged to make the acquaintance of M. Jean Lamaud, the custodian of the site who provided me with much detailed information about the individual houses and their inhabitants based on personal experience and knowledge. He himself was born just after the War but on the morning of the day of the massacre his parents (village residents) had taken the tram to Limoges for a day’s shopping leaving their 3 year old daughter in the care of her grand-parents. When they and the tram returned at 7.00pm, the village was in flames and the Germans ordered it back to Limoges.  The little girl and her grandparents perished.

The first couple of days was spent in exploring and familiarising myself with the ruins and general layout of the village. I also made three hurried thumbnail sketches in darkness to regain the “feel” of the place and to “Get started!” see below.

I then began making studies in earnest, mostly by day initially but also by night using combinations of charcoal, graphite and pen and ink.

Restaurant owner, M. Brandy was killed with his family including his 4 year-old grand-daughter. His daughter, the hairdresser Mme. Renaud, survived the massacre by hiding in the gardens behind her husband’s garage business.

Following the drawing above I returned to the van, snatched a bite to eat and a cup of tea as I prepared drawing materials backpack, sketching stool and primed my unreliable and temperamental paraffin pressure lamp for my first night-time foray into the interiors of the ruins.

The drawings below are the result.

3.30pm 18 Feb 1997. Drawing of the Altar in the Church at Oradour. 205 children and 240 women were murdered in this church by SS Troops using machine-guns and incendiary grenades. Only one woman, Mme Marguerite Rouffanche, escaped.  Her testimony was as follows:

“At about 2 pm, German soldiers burst into my home and ordered me to go to the fair-ground (Village Green) together with my husband, son, two daughters and my grandson.

A number from the village were already assembled and men and women were flocking in from all directions.  They were followed by the schoolchildren who arrived separately.  The Germans divided us into two groups: women and children on one side and men on the other. The first group, of which I was one, was taken under armed escort to the church.  It consisted of all the women from the town, especially mothers, who entered the House of God carrying their babies in their arms or pushing them in their prams. All the schoolchildren were there as well. We must have numbered several hundred.

Crammed inside the church, we waited with growing anxiety to see what would happen next. Around 4.00 pm a few soldiers, about 20 years of age, brought into the nave, close to the choir, a large kind of box, from which hung strings, which trailed on the ground.

When the trailing strings were eventually lit, the device suddenly exploded with a loud bang and gave off a thick, black, suffocating smoke. Women and children, half choking and screaming in terror, rushed to those parts of the church where the air was still breathable.  It was thus that the door to the sacristy was broken down, under the irresistible pressure of a terrified crowd.  I followed them and sat down on a step. My daughter joined me. The Germans saw that people had escaped to the room, and cold-bloodedly shot down everyone who was hiding there. My daughter was killed where she stood by a shot from outside. I owe my life to closing my eves and feigning death. 

A volley was fired in the church and then straw, firewood and chairs were thrown on top of the bodies lying on the flagstones and set on fire.

I had escaped the slaughter unwounded and took advantage of a cloud of smoke to hide behind the main altar.

In that part of the church, there were three windows.  I went to the middle one, the biggest and with the aid of the stool used in lighting the candles, tried to climb up. I don’t know how I managed it, but terror gave me strength, I heaved myself up and fell about 10 feet through the broken glass.

Looking up, I saw that I had been followed by a woman who, from the height of the window, was holding out her child. She fell next to me.  Alerted by the child’s crying, the Germans fired at us. My companion and her babe were killed  I myself was wounded as I crawled away to a nearby garden  I hid among the rows of peas, and waited in terror for help to arrive. I was not rescued until the following day at 5.00 pm”. 

Although small in size, the drawing ”Stairway to nowhere” is possibly the most powerful image that arose from this expedition.

The drawing, like most of my work, was done swiftly and spontaneously taking little more than 30 minutes to complete.

The technique I used was to rough in the basic darks using a squared stick of compressed charcoal, some sections being “smeared” by light strokes with the side of an eraser block, some parts treated with fixative to avoid unwanted further smudging and then the whole surface being worked up further with charcoal and pen and ink introducing more detail.

I took the photograph (left) using the time delay setting on the camera whilst I was making the drawing.

The taking of photographic or video recordings of work in progress which I sometimes do is a most tedious and inconvenient activity,  breaking up the intensity and continuity of the work process. However, it sometimes seems to be essential in documenting my activities.

Having completed the drawing of the stairway, I moved on to work in the interior of the house of M. Moreau, macon platrier (builder and plasterer.)  The fireplace featured the remains of small mosaic-like decorative tiles and was evidently used for cooking judging by the cooking pots and saucepans around it.

No member of M. Moreau’s household survived the massacre.

The drawings featured above were made on-site superimposed over pre-prepared photocopies made before I left Britain from books about Oradour placed on the copier at random angles.

Concluding notes

Archival photographs and disturbing imagery

On that day, at around 2.45 pm,  Doctor Desourteaux arrived back from his round and parked his car not far from the assembly point.  As a prominent member of the community, he tried to intercede and speak to the senior officers but was immediately ordered to join his fellow citizens which he did, sharing their fate.

The photograph above left was taken by the Artist around 11.00pm at night and shows the burnt-out shell of Dr Desourteaux’s car exactly where he parked it on that fateful afternoon and where it has remained ever since.  The archive photograph on the right shows his charred corpse after the massacre and the fire.

Robert Hebras, a survivor from Laudy’s Barn wrote, in his memoir of the terrible events he witnessed, “ I wanted to tell the story as clearly as possible, so that generations to come might understand how the tragedy unfolded, and realise just how people may suffer from the savage cruelty which springs from intolerance, be it religious or political.” 

 Acknowledgements.    

I would like to thank M. Poncet and M. Lamaud for their help in this venture. Robert Perry.     September  2020.