Part 23

This failure to enlist the support among the Communist rank and file which had been found among the leaders convinced the German secret service early that there was no real chance of bringing about the defeat of France by fomenting a Bolshevik revolution. If such a method had been feasible, Nazi Germany would certainly not have hesitated to apply it, just as Imperial Germany did not hesitate to send Lenin and his companions in their famous sealed railroad coach into Russia in 1917.

Under the circumstances, the Communist movement was taken advantage of by the Germans only to the extent of being employed to create as much unrest as possible among French workers, who did not even realize to what influences they were being exposed. The chief effort of German secret agents was concentrated on conservative circles, which, according to reports received at the Wilhelmstrasse, were in a much better position to exert effective influence on the outcome of the war.

There was nothing contradictory about this willingness on the part of the Nazis to cooperate with either the extreme Left or the extreme Right, or even with both simultaneously, since their object, whatever their dupes might think, was not to help them to victory, but to use them as a tool to weaken the unity and the power of the government. Nazi propaganda welcomed any loophole through which it might penetrate into the vitals of a foreign country with the aid of any resistance to the regime which might already exist there.

For years before the war, the Nazis had established contact with reactionary Rightist circles in France. One such circle which in America has been accused of having been influenced by the Germans and having perhaps contributed to France’s downfall is the Croix de Feu, at one time generally considered as the future Fascist movement of France. I must say that I could find neither proof nor indication that the Croix de Feu had played Germany’s game. On the contrary, the _Petit Journal_, published by Colonel François de la Rocque, the Croix de Feu leader, assumed a more courageously anti-German attitude after the armistice than did most other papers published under the control of the Vichy government.

Two other less conspicuous, but perhaps more influential Right-wing groups were, however, definitely approached by the Germans during the prewar years. One of them was the secret revolutionary organization popularly known as the Cagoulards (the Hooded ones); the other was the group which published the weekly, _Je Suis Partout_. These contacts were established chiefly by Otto Abetz, infamous “special delegate” of Nazi Foreign Minister von Ribbentrop, who was expelled from France shortly before the war. On his initiative, members of both groups undertook several trips to Berlin between 1937 and 1939 to discuss means of action.

The German secret service had a particular interest in these two groups because, while entirely independent of each other, they had one thing in common--far-reaching ties with the French Army.

The Cagoulard group was headed by French officers of high rank--majors, colonels, and even generals. General Dusseigneur was among those arrested when the Cagoulard movement was uncovered shortly before the war after it had planted bombs in Paris. The dissolution of the movement made its members more cautious, but its underground activities continued.

If any further evidence of German support for the Cagoulards had been needed beyond that already turned up by the French police, it was provided by the Germans themselves. When they occupied Paris, one of the first things they did was to demand that the French national police turn over the files on the Cagoulard case. From these files, the Germans learned the names of the police commissioners who had unearthed the Cagoulard plot, and immediately arrested those who were in occupied territory.

This was in striking contrast to the treatment of the arrested Cagoulard leaders, all of whom had been released by the French government by the beginning of the war. Shortly after the start of hostilities I met in the train the brother of one of the Cagoulards who had been arrested. In the ensuing conversation, I remarked that I was astonished that responsible adults should have indulged at such a time in what then appeared to have been a somewhat childish imitation of a motion picture conspiracy. Nettled by my attitude, my interlocutor answered:

“You don’t understand how serious this movement was. It was organized by the Deuxième Bureau (the department of the army concerned with espionage and counterespionage). It was at the instigation of the military secret service that my brother and his friends organized the Cagoulards. That can’t be told now, of course, but the day will come when all the truth will be known, and my brother will be considered a hero for the time he has spent in prison.”

“The Deuxième Bureau!” I exclaimed incredulously. “Why in the world should the Deuxième Bureau want to foster a revolutionary movement when it’s already so near the power itself?”

“Ever since the 1936 elections,” he answered, “important members of the French secret service have been very much worried about the influence the Communist movement has gained in this country, and so they decided to take matters into their own hands. The Cagoulard movement was formed to do that. The Popular Front ministers got my brother and his friends put in jail, but you’ll see that they haven’t said their last word yet.”

_Je Suis Partout_, the weekly which was another outpost of German propaganda in France, belonged originally to the publishing house of Fayard, which put out books and another and more prosperous political weekly, _Candide_. _Je Suis Partout_ was a money loser and publisher Arthème Fayard decided several years ago to discontinue it. When the news got out, Pierre Gaxotte, editor of the paper, proposed to Fayard that he turn the paper’s name over to him instead of giving him severance pay, since he thought he might be able to keep the magazine going himself. Fayard agreed, and _Je Suis Partout_ continued to appear without interruption, and so far as the public knew, without any change in its control. Circulation did not increase. Advertising continued low. The paper showed no signs of prosperity--but it did not show any signs of having financial difficulties any more either.

Pierre Gaxotte, as well as some other members of his editorial staff, had begun his political career in the Royalist _Action Française_ movement, but had apparently decided to strike out for himself and cut his own political tracks. Under Gaxotte’s direction, _Je Suis Partout_ assumed a definitely pro-German attitude, arguing that France and Germany should come to an understanding between themselves as the two great continental powers, leaving England out in the cold. Paul Ferdonnet, who won fame later as the “traitor of Stuttgart” delivering propaganda broadcasts in French from the Stuttgart radio station during the war (he is now supervisor of the French radio in Paris), was also on the editorial staff until he went to Berlin to establish his permanent residence and his own press syndicate there. From that time on, he was the secret liaison agent between the German authorities and Gaxotte’s paper.

The German sympathies of _Je Suis Partout_ were apparent enough, but no one bothered much about it, for circulation was low and the paper’s influence was considered to be negligible. This must have been the viewpoint of the Daladier government also, for except for friendly arguments with the censors, the paper was able to continue publishing unhampered even after the war broke out.

When Daladier resigned and Paul Reynaud came in, he appointed Georges Mandel Minister of the Interior, and thus head of the French police organization. Although Mandel, zealous, patriotic, and uncompromising, like his master Clemenceau whose secretary he had been during the last war, undertook to hunt down defeatists of all descriptions, _Je Suis Partout_ continued to appear as usual. Mandel also apparently considered it too insignificant to be dangerous.

But one day a well-known French journalist brought to Mandel the proof that the principal members of the editorial staff of _Je Suis Partout_ were simultaneously agents of the Deuxième Bureau. Mandel was astounded. He who knew all the undercurrents of French political life, who for years had kept secret files about all public figures, had not dreamed that any connection could have existed between this outspokenly pro-German magazine and one of the most influential departments of the French Army. He had put the editors of _Je Suis Partout_ down as innocuous fools. He now realized that though the circulation of the paper was small, the private influence of its editors might have been both great and disastrous.

He did not hesitate an instant. He ordered immediately the arrest of five members of the staff. Among them was an obscure journalist, not generally known as a member of the staff, named Pierre Mouton, who some years before had founded a small press syndicate called _Prima Presse_ in partnership with Ferdonnet. Mandel quickly obtained proof that the two men were still cooperating. Mouton, while maintaining permanent contact with _Je Suis Partout_, was also flooding the French daily press with cleverly prepared pro-German articles which were supplied to the newspapers free of charge.

With the known leaders of the _Je Suis Partout_ group in jail, Mandel apparently thought that there was no immediate urgency for delving further into this particular case when so many other vital matters pressed for attention. The same attitude had been taken a few years before in regard to the Cagoulards, who seemed to have been set down as definitely muzzled because their figureheads had been imprisoned. Neither the stern and Spartan Mandel, who had arrested the _Je Suis Partout_ group, nor the vivacious and epicurean Albert Sarraut, his predecessor, who had handled the Cagoulard case, imagined that either of these two groups had achieved a real and lasting penetration into the high command--a penetration which seems to have contributed largely to the debacle of May and June.

Possibly the two cases had never been laid side by side so that the telltale fact that both times a trail led to the Deuxième Bureau had not been observed. Perhaps also the two Interior Ministers had hesitated each time before venturing to have civilian authorities investigate the most powerful of the military departments. The Deuxième Bureau of the French Army was sometimes called “a state within the state.” It might more exactly have been called “several states within the state,” for it was a complicated organism with its own currents and undercurrents, comprising a number of competing groups. Somewhere within this complicated office existed the only link between the pro-German _Je Suis Partout_ and the German-inspired Cagoulards; but on the surface, at least at the beginning, no relation seemed to exist between these two separate activities.

The Cagoulard movement, although it had started in the Deuxième Bureau, soon succeeded through the interlinking relationships of high officers, some of whom supported its activities, in putting out tentacles into the first and third bureaus of the army as well--those concerned respectively with direction of operations and supplies--in other words the two departments which in June were responsible respectively for the orders to retreat and for the failure of the front-line troops to receive ammunition and aid from the aviation.

It may be noted also that several of these high officers who were sympathetic to the Cagoulard movement were in particularly close contact with Marshal Pétain who had his own devoted followers in the army, just as all other first-rank military leaders, like Gamelin and Weygand, had also, whether they were on the active list or retired.

All this may seem incredible. It is difficult to believe that French officers of high rank should have acted in the interests of Germany during the war, thus contributing to bring about their country’s downfall. Even though the Cagoulards, an emanation of the Deuxième Bureau, may have maintained contact with the Germans several years before the war; even if unsuccessful newspapermen like Gaxotte may have made up for deficits by accepting subsidies from the Nazis, it still seems fantastic that the military leaders of France, whose patriotism no one has ever doubted, should have acted as traitors in time of war. It seems to be a moral impossibility.

The explanation is simple. Neither the Cagoulards, nor the editors of _Je Suis Partout_, nor the French officers who were in relations with them, ever believed at any moment that they were traitors. If history sets them down as having betrayed France, the verdict will be incomprehensible to them. They believed themselves to be patriots. It is our privilege, if we wish, to see them rather as pitiful victims of German Propaganda.

What happened was this: Long before the war, the Nazi secret service realized that both the Cagoulards and the staff of _Je Suis Partout_ were worth cultivating because of their connections with members of the French General Staff, and with officers of influence close to such leaders as Pétain, among others.

Friendly relations were established, and the Germans hammered away with arguments like these:

“You Frenchmen consider that we Germans are your hereditary enemies. There’s no reason why you should think so. Our two peoples should be able to live and work side by side without friction. It’s true we’ve had trouble in the past, but why? Because England, who can only maintain her influence on the continent if the continental nations are divided, has constantly stirred us up against each other.

“Besides that, we have not fought against the real France. Our wars were against the French Republic. For 150 years that regime has usurped the place of the real France. In 1789 the English provoked the French Revolution to weaken your nation, and since then your people seem to have forgotten its great destiny.

“The Revolution of France started in the lodges of Freemasonry, which were implanted in your country by England. The Freemasons operated with English and Jewish help; for the last 150 years, you have been under the control of the same powers. For the last twenty years these powers have been cooperating with international Communism and thus have brought another danger into your country.

“Wake up! Denounce the English alliance, expel the Jews from important positions, suppress Freemasonry, as we have done in Germany. The danger of Communism will be over, and there will be no obstacle to a happy and peaceful understanding between France and Germany.”

This bait was eagerly taken. It made no difference that this account was inaccurate, and might easily have been refuted. It was the sort of thing that right-wing Frenchmen of anti-Republican and antidemocratic leanings were ready to hear, and it provided a moral basis for cooperation between them and the Germans. Supplied with a patriotic motive for destroying their domestic political opponents, convinced that in so doing they would not open the way to the hereditary enemy but on the contrary make him a friend, these Frenchmen no longer had any scruples about accepting subsidies for the arming of the Cagoulards and the publication of _Je Suis Partout_ from an ally in the common cause of continental peace and friendship.

The Germans had found the ideal sophism with which to gain friends within the French Army. They realized, of course, that they could not hope to influence a majority of General Staff officers, but they knew also that an active minority, so convinced it is right that it is willing to use any methods to achieve its aims, can arrive at its objectives at decisive moments by obstructing the course of action decided upon by the majority. And among the officers whom German propaganda had reached were many so placed that they could easily block the complicated intermeshing gears of the army machine at the critical juncture.

Relationships between the Germans and their friends in France were maintained even after the beginning of the war through various neutral countries. Ferdonnet continued to communicate with Mouton and the staff of _Je Suis Partout_. Michelin, the big automobile tire manufacturer whose name was whispered all over France as that of one of the men behind the Cagoulards, sent frequent messengers to Switzerland. Pétain himself was French Ambassador to Spain, and several members of his entourage maintained contact with members of the German Embassy in Madrid. There were even rumors that Pétain had secret meetings with the German Ambassador, though this was denied. The theme the Germans were singing to their French friends now was a development of that which they had dinned into them earlier. It had evolved into this:

“We did not want this war. You yourselves did your utmost to avoid it. But now that it has come it is a fact which we cannot leave out of account. Both of us wanted to create a better understanding between our two countries, to be followed by an alliance. The war now prevents us from reaching our goal by direct means.

“If you concluded a separate peace with us, we could still become your allies. We know, of course, that you and your friends, who have the true interests of your country at heart, and can see into the future more clearly than the others, would eagerly accept this solution. But you have not the power to do it; and even if you had, the people who have been worked up by war propaganda to hate us, would never agree to it. There is only one case now in which the French people would accept a separate peace; and that, unfortunately, is if France suffers a military defeat.

“It must seem monstrous to you even to envisage a French defeat. We understand that. We sympathize with you. But suppose you knew that it would not be a real defeat. Suppose we could arrange a simulated defeat, which would bring the French people to accept the idea of an armistice whether the English are ready to fight or not?

“We can give you a binding promise that if France can be apparently defeated in this manner, she will not be treated as a defeated nation. On the contrary, you will immediately become Germany’s ally and we will cooperate to build up a new order in Europe. You have only to break definitely with England as proof of your good faith.

“Of course, a brief occupation of certain parts of France by German troops would be necessary to make the defeat look real and to persuade the population to accept it. One of the purposes of the occupation would be to purge France of the elements which you dislike just as much as we do, and which stand in your way in your task of resuscitating the real France from her torpor of a century and a half. But when it is all over, when our troops have been withdrawn, you will be in control of a new and reborn France which with the new Germany will impose upon Europe an era of strength and prosperity for both of us.”

Once again the bait was taken. Its effect was felt in extremely influential circles. I have personally been able to verify conclusively the fact that Marshal Pétain, having invited two highly placed Spaniards to dine with him in Hendaye in November 1939, said to his guests: “Do not judge France by its present appearance. Democracy is finished everywhere. Next spring will see a movement in France comparable to your own national uprising.”

Such a phrase in the mouth of a French Ambassador who was at the same time a French military leader was extremely significant. What other meaning could a revolt in wartime have except that its intent was to end the war? What other reason could there have been for waiting until spring except that this period was the best for a German offensive?

It was not necessary, as I have already noted above, to transform all or even a majority of the officers of the French General Staff, into accomplices in order to provoke a French defeat. If in a big business, a few accountants, an assistant cashier, the head of the sales department, and one or two keymen in the stock department took part in a conspiracy to ruin the firm, their simultaneous coordinated sabotage would inevitably achieve their aim--and with particular ease if the organization of the company were faulty.

There were some faults with the French Army, certainly. Was morale unsatisfactory? Was equipment inadequate? Undoubtedly, but the situation in these respects was not strikingly different from that of 1914-1918. The decisive factor seems to have been faults in the high command--important information regarding the movements of the enemy was not relayed in time, orders to army corps suffered considerable delays, the supply service left equipment and matériel of all sorts in the depots instead of sending it to strategically important points. From June 13 on, troops in good fighting shape received everywhere mysterious orders for retreat which puzzled them most of all, at the same time that French statesmen were hearing from French generals (most of them may have spoken with complete good faith), that all troops were fleeing in disorder. Confusion was so great and news of the retreat so unexpected that nobody thought to investigate the hidden causes of the disaster.

Shortly after the armistice, the same announcement was repeated in French by the Stuttgart radio several evenings in succession. It was this: “Frenchmen, in a few days we will give you the name of an outstanding countryman of yours who was our principal agent in France, and who helped to bring about your defeat.”

Everyone in the French unoccupied zone either heard this broadcast or heard about it. There was naturally a good deal of guessing as to the name that would be given by the Germans. For my part, I made a bet that no name would ever be given by Stuttgart. My reasoning was this: That there was such a man or men I didn’t doubt for an instant. But I didn’t doubt also that he had not expected the terrible armistice conditions imposed upon France. He had led his country into what he had thought would be a fake defeat on the basis of his confidence in the honesty of the Germans. By then he had discovered that they were not honest, and that it was a real defeat that had been inflicted upon the country. He saw that the Nazis intended to treat the country with all the severity of genuine conquerors, and that he and his friends had been dupes.

I supposed then, that this man had tried to force the Germans to live up to their promises and to treat France as an ally. He would have pointed out that the new Pétain government had turned against England, as had been agreed. And he would have threatened to reveal everything if Germany did not hold to her bargain, thus ending the acceptance of defeat on the part of the French people by letting them know that they had not in fact been militarily defeated.

Germany’s answer was the Stuttgart broadcast. Her French agent had tried to threaten her. She simply returned the blackmail, reminding him forcefully that the Reich no longer cared whether the French people knew how it had been defeated or not, since the Army was disbanded, the strategic points occupied, and the people helpless to resume the fight. He was reminded also what his own position would be if the story came out. He saw that he had to keep silence to save himself, and the Germans, perfectly willing that silence should be kept, never honored their promise to reveal his name.