Patrick Modiano - The Occupation Trilogy - La Place de l'Étoile – The Night Watch – Ring Roads

‘Yes, sir.’

‘You may go, Schlemilovitch. I’ll have my orderly bring you the books I mentioned. Read them while you’re waiting to go and swing a pickaxe in the Negev. Shake my hand, Schlemilovitch. Harder, man, for God’s sake! Eyes front! Chin up! We’ll make a sabra of you yet!’ (He burst into tears.)

‘Thank you, general.’

Saul led me back to my cell. He threw a few punches but my warder seemed to have mellowed considerably since the previous night. I suspected him of eavesdropping. He had doubtless been impressed by the meekness I had shown with General Cohen.

That night, Isaac and Isaiah bundled me into an army truck with a number of other young men, foreign Jews like me. They were all wearing striped pyjamas.

‘No talking about Kafka, Proust and that lot,’ said Isaiah.

‘When we hear the word culture, we reach for our truncheons,’ said Isaac.

‘We’re not too keen on intelligence,’ said Isaiah.

‘Especially when it’s Jewish,’ said Isaac.

‘And I don’t want any of you playing the martyr,’ said Isaiah, ‘it’s gone beyond a joke. It’s all very well you pulling long faces for the goyim back in Europe. But here there’s just us, so don’t waste your time.’

‘Understood?’ said Isaac. ‘You will sing until we reach our destination. A few patriotic songs will do you good. Repeat after me. .’

At about four in the afternoon, we arrived at the penal kibbutz. A huge concrete building surrounded by barbed wire. All around, the desert stretched as far as the eye could see. Isaiah and Isaac lined us up by the gates and took a roll call. There were eight of us: three English Jews, an Italian Jew, two German Jews, an Austrian Jew and me, a French Jew. The camp commandant appeared and stared at each of us in turn. The sight of this blond colossus in his black uniform did not fill me with confidence. And yet two Stars of David glittered on the lapel of his jacket.

‘A bunch of intellectuals, obviously,’ he roared at us furiously. ‘How can I be expected to create shock troops out of this human detritus? A fine reputation you lot have made for us in Europe with your whining and your critical thinking. Well, gentlemen, here there’ll be less bitching and more body building. There’ll be no criticism and lots of construction! Reveille tomorrow morning at 06.00 hours. Now, up to your dormitory. Come on! Move it! Hup Two! Hup Two!’

Once we were in bed, the camp commandant strode into the dormitory followed by three young men as tall and blond as himself.

‘These are your supervisors,’ he said in a soft voice, ‘Siegfried Levy, Günther Cohen, Herman Rappoport. These archangels will knock you into shape! The slightest insubordination is punishable by death! Isn’t that so, my darlings? Don’t hesitate to shoot them if they annoy you. . A bullet in the temple, no discussions! Understood, my angels?’

He gently stroked their cheeks.

‘I don’t want these European Jews undermining your moral fibre. .’

At 06:00 hours, Siegfried, Günther and Hermann dragged us from our beds, punching us as they did so. We pulled on our striped pyjamas. They led us to the administrative office of the kibbutz. We rattled off our surnames, first names, dates of birth to a dark-haired young woman wearing the regulation army khaki shirt and grey-blue trousers. Siegfried, Günther and Hermann stood behind the office door. One after another, my companions left the room after answering the young woman’s questions. My turn came. The young woman raised her head and stared me straight in the eye. She looked like the twin sister of Tania Arcisewska. She said:

‘My name is Rebecca and I love you.’

I did not know how to answer.

‘Listen,’ she said, ‘they’re going to kill you. You have to leave tonight. I’ll take care of everything. I’m an officer in the Israeli army so I don’t have to answer to the camp commandant. I’ll borrow a truck on the pretext that I have to go to Tel Aviv to attend a meeting of the chiefs of staff. You’ll come with me. I’ll steal Siegfried Levy’s papers and give them to you. That way you won’t have to worry about the police for the time being. Later, we’ll see what we can do. We could take the first boat to Europe and get married. I love you, I love you! I’ll have you brought to my office at eight o’clock tonight. Fall out!’

We broke rocks in the blazing sun until 5 p.m. I had never handled a pickaxe before and my pale hands were bleeding horribly. Siegfried, Günther and Hermann smoked Lucky Strikes and stood guard. At no point during the day did they utter a single word and I assumed they were mute. Siegfried raised a hand to let us know our work was finished. Hermann walked over to the three English Jews, took out his revolver and shot them, his eyes utterly expressionless. He lit a Lucky Strike and puffed on it, staring up at the sky. After summarily burying the English Jews, our three guards led us back to the kibbutz. We were left to stare out through the barbed wire at the desert. At eight o’clock, Hermann Rappoport came to fetch me and escorted me to the administrative office.

‘I feel like having a little fun, Hermann!’ Rebecca said, ‘Leave this little Jew with me, I’ll take him to Tel Aviv, rape him and kill him, promise!’

Hermann nodded.

‘Well then, it’s just the two of us!’ she said ominously.

As soon as Rappoport left the room, she squeezed my hand affectionately.

‘Follow me, we don’t have a moment to lose!’

We went out through the gates and climbed into a military truck. She got behind the steering wheel.

‘Freedom is ours!’ she said, ‘We’ll stop in a little while. You can slip on Siegfried’s uniform, I’ve just stolen it. His papers are in the inside pocket.’

We reached our destination at 11 p.m.

‘I love you and I want to go back to Europe,’ she told me. ‘Here there’s nothing but thugs, soldiers, boy scouts and nudniks . In Europe we’ll be happy. We’ll be able to read Kafka to our children.’

‘Yes, my darling Rebecca. We’ll dance all night and tomorrow morning we’ll catch the first boat for Marseille!’

The soldiers we encountered in the street snapped to attention as Rebecca passed.

‘I’m a lieutenant,’ she said, smiling. ‘But I can’t wait to throw this uniform away and go back to Europe.’

Rebecca knew a clandestine nightclub in Tel Aviv where we danced to the songs of Zarah Leander and Marlene Dietrich. It was a very popular club among young women in the army. To gain admittance, their companions had to wear a Luftwaffe officer’s uniform. The dim lighting was conducive to intimacy. Their first dance was a tango, ‘Der Wind hat mir ein Lied erzählt’, sung by Zarah Leander in a smouldering voice. He murmured into Rebecca’s ear ‘Du bist der Lenz nachdem ich verlangte.’ During their second dance, ‘Schön war die Zeit’, he held her shoulders and kissed her passionately on the lips. The voice of Lala Andersen quickly snuffed out that of Zarah Leander. At the first words of ‘Lili Marlene’, they heard the police sirens. There was a great commotion but no one could get out: Commandant Elias Bloch, Saul, Isaac and Isaiah had burst into the club, waving their revolvers.

‘Round up all these fools,’ roared Bloch, ‘but first, do a quick identity check.’

When his turn came, Bloch recognised him in spite of the Luftwaffe uniform.

‘Schlemilovitch? What are you doing here? I thought you had been sent to a disciplinary kibbutz! And wearing a Luftwaffe uniform! Clearly European Jews are irredeemable.’

‘Your fiancée?’ He gestured to Rebecca. ‘A French Jew I’m guessing? Dressed as an Israeli army officer! This just gets better and better! Look, here come my friends. Well, I’m a generous man, let’s crack open a bottle of champagne!’