This journal was written for my parents in the hope that it will reach both of them in good health. Their son: Pierre Feigl. Condom, August 27, 1942
Thursday, August 27
Mr. Weissmann had spoken to me about it. It was before lunch that the directress, coming back from Condom, called me to her office and told me what had happened to you, my dears!1 It was the Secours Suisse2 that wrote him that they had come looking for you. I thought I would go mad. At the same time she gave me the last letter dated the twenty-fifth, with the ration coupons and 5 francs. Right away I wrote the Sternefelds, asking them to look after you, our belongings, me. I went out with the Scouts. Later I came back and went to look for the milk. I thought a lot about you while waiting for your news.
I went to communion and I prayed for you, my loved ones.
Saturday, August 29
The postman came. I run to ask if there is something for me. Praise the Lord. A postcard from you, telling me that you are together at the Camp du Vernet, Quartier H, Baraque 66/ Ariège. I am happy and hope that you will be released in view of Papa’s poor health. The directress also received a postcard.
I am a little ill.
I have gone to bed.
Tuesday, September 1
Another month begins. I am waiting to hear from you. Nothing for me. At noon, Madame C., the directress, orders me to bed and tells me that they (3 policemen) are coming to look for me. She has a [medical] certificate. At 2 o'clock, they come. But thanks to the certificate, they leave me here.
I’m in bed. Nothing from you.
I’m anxious. Madame C. received a letter with my baptismal certificate and three ration coupons for shoes and nothing else. Sender: A. Feigl — Limoges and addressed to: Chateau Montéléone, Condom/Gers, written in great haste (the postmark is from the 1st or 2nd, from Limoges).3 I'm worried. I'm afraid that you have left. I am still in bed. I fear for you; my good parents.
Still nothing from you. I received a nice letter from Willie H., who has the key to the room and who is taking care of everything. Still in bed. Madame Cavailhon was at the Sub-Prefecture on my account.4 I am waiting, I am hoping.
I am in bed. Finally I receive your second postcard dated the 31st. I recall the strange letter of the 3rd. But let's not lose heart. I also received a very nice letter from Charles because I had also written to him.
Nothing. I am in bed.
Nothing from you. Still in bed. Another letter from Charles, who was kind enough to send me 100 francs.
Tuesday, September 8
I am in bed. Nothing from you. I think of you often.
I get up a little. They are taking care of me and spoil me a lot. I don't know how to thank Madame Cavailhon.
Nothing from you. I receive a card from Lex, who is already in Madrid. He's lucky. I have written a card to you and another to Charles.
Still nothing. I wait.
I receive a card from Charles. I have written you a card, as you requested, every other day. But the directress tells me that she has received a letter from a Jewish aid organization stating that you are in an occupied zone and that you want news about me. I am afraid for [you]. I won't send the card. It's useless. I cried tonight. Who knows where they have taken you?
I receive a visit from Madame Lapper. She tells me that you left (for Transi near Paris).5 She is nice and says she stayed by your side. She had brought me three treats and the address of Siegmund. I must be brave and wait. I think of you a lot.
Willie came to see me at noon. He told me that he has the key. He brought me a package, among other things, the cable-car, the watch, the 4-color pencil, and Papa's cigarette case. He received 300 francs from Dr. Koen and sold the animals. He brought me, all told, 1,003.80 francs. He is taking care of everything and I trust him. He was pale and thin. The director showed him your letter, which she had just received, forwarded by the Quakers.6 I hope, nonetheless, that you will leave with me. Perhaps you'll still be set free? She also said that I have chances to leave. She has, I believe, received a letter from Charles.
Nothing. I am always waiting.
Wednesday, September 16
Nothing. I have been here for two months already. Some other children came today. I hope that you are in good health?
Madame Cavailhon received a telegram this morning from Vichy, saying that everything had been arranged for me and for all those in the same circumstances as mine. We are happy, she and I.
Nothing. This evening, during the meal, I was sent to bed. The police again. The telegram is of no interest to them. They want an official document or at least a [medical] certificate within 48 hours, saying that I cannot be moved yet. I was afraid and thought about you. They left again.
Nothing. No news. I organized a party with the older children for the monitors to thank them for what they do for us. It was good (plays, jokes, good things, etc.) I thought about you a lot.
Nothing. I haven’t been able to go out yet. On the one hand, I would like to be with you. On the other hand, no. If I only knew where you are. What you are doing. And Papa, his health.
I'm sad and weary. During the rest hour Mme Cavailhon calls me. She has received a letter asking if she wants to send children to a very good school in Haute-Loire at an altitude of 1,000 meters.7 She chose me and another boy. I could go there, but she is afraid that perhaps I wouldn't be safe there (police). Oh, what a life? ... I still have hope. I also received a card from Lex. If I could go to this school, I would be very happy. I would work hard to please you. Lex is in Portugal. Those who remained in France are going to rejoin him on the 30th in Portugal.
Tuesday, September 22
Nothing. I think of you a lot.
I have received a letter from Charles. He is very nice and takes care of me.
I cried a lot while thinking of you. Mlle Mariette of the S.S. [Secours Suisse] came to see me. She is going to send me all my belongings. Mme Cavailhon told me in front of her that it was only a matter of weeks and that I would be leaving for America on the first ship (in October). I would have wanted to bring you along. But once I'm there, I would be safe and I could have you come.
A convoy left this morning for Aix with Mme Cavailhon. She is going to bring back children in my situation. The two big boys, Georges and Roger, whom my dear mama knew, left with the convoy. They picked me up in the bus when I came.
Willie sent me stamps and photos. Unfortunately, not yours. When will I hear from you?
Nothing. I haven't been out yet. I must wait for Mme Cavailhon to come back from Marseille. She left with the convoy.
I received a letter from Willie. He is going to send me my things by the bus. It's been cold here for a few days and it rains all the time. And you? With you, your things. I would give a lot for news of you.
Nothing. Yesterday evening we helped harvest grapes and we ate a lot of grapes.
I received a letter from Mme Fourrier and from Willie. Tomorrow he will send a suitcase with my belongings, with the bus.
Thursday, October 1
Nothing from you. I [Page ends]