Charlotte

by David Foenkinos

  *

  Buoyed by his success in Greece and Drancy, Brunner heads for Nice.

  He sets up his headquarters in the Hotel Excelsior.

  Close to the train station, where he can pen up Jews before their deportation.

  There is a commemorative plaque outside the hotel now.

  The interior courtyard is impenetrable, acting as a sort of prison.

  Encircled by buildings.

  From their apartments, certain inhabitants have a front-row seat.

  Spectators to executions.

  Brunner no doubt found this idea exciting.

  Having an audience to admire his barbarism.

  He organizes a team of fourteen people.

  A sort of commando unit for hunting Jews.

  He thinks he will simply have to go to the prefecture, and everything will be simple.

  But the prefect, Chaigneau, has destroyed the administrative lists.

  He tells Brunner that the Italians took everything with them when they left.

  It is the perfect lie, impossible to verify.

  In this way, Chaigneau saves thousands of lives.

  Furious, Brunner begins his hunt.

  Some flee, attempting to cross the mountains into Italy.

  Were Alexander not handicapped, perhaps they too would have gone.

  But he cannot walk for that long.

  And besides, Charlotte is four months pregnant.

  So they decide to remain in hiding at the Ermitage.

  The house is so large, no one will notice their presence.

  Brunner promises a generous reward for any information.

  From the very next morning, the letters start pouring in at his hotel.

  Mass denunciation letters.

  They are back in business.

  They must flush out their prey in the early morning, when they are still in bed.

  Old men stand wild-eyed in their pajamas in the Excelsior’s courtyard.

  Some of the arrested women are forced to undergo a physical assessment.

  The good-looking ones are immediately sterilized.

  And sent to the East as prostitutes for the soldiers.

  But it’s not enough, not enough, not enough.

  Brunner always wants more.

  He carries out interrogations with a singular brutality.

  Forcing each prisoner to inform on family members.

  Every Jew counts.

  He finds out that a famous writer is living in a hotel in the region.

  This is Tristan Bernard, who is nearly eighty years old.

  At the hotel reception, there are protests, howls of outrage.

  It makes no difference: the writer and his wife are taken away.

  Sent first to Nice, then Drancy.

  Where he will be liberated only due to the intervention of Guitry and Arletty.

  7

  In Greece, Brunner succeeded in deporting nearly 50,000 Jews.

  Here, for all his efforts, he is well short of his target.

  He has made barely a thousand arrests.

  Thankfully, the letters continue to pour in.

  There are still good French people, ready to serve.

  It is the morning of September 21, 1943.

  Not a letter this time, but a telephone call.

  A young woman …

  A German Jew, says the voice.

  In Villefranche-sur-Mer …

  …

  In a house called the Ermitage.

  The Er … what?

  The Ermitage.

  Okay, got it.

  Excellent.

  Have a good day, and thanks again.

  Oh, you’re welcome, just doing my duty.

  One denunciation among many.

  So that’s all it is.

  A denunciation for no particular reason.

  Or maybe there is a reason.

  But what?

  Charlotte and Alexander are not bothering anyone.

  They live as hermits.

  Does someone hope to take over the house?

  No, that’s ridiculous.

  No one took possession of the Ermitage.

  So what, then?

  There is no reason.

  This is what is known as a gratuitous act.

  Dr. Moridis’s daughter Kika brings up the arrest.

  Seventy years after the event.

  She tells me what her father told her.

  Suddenly, she is interrupted by her husband.

  Some people know who denounced Charlotte Salomon, he says.

  I sit there in shock.

  I question him, and he goes into more detail.

  These things get talked about.

  In the towns, in the villages.

  That’s how it is.

  I was not expecting this.

  I don’t know what to think.

  It’s an old woman who told people, he says.

  Well, there’s no way of knowing for sure.

  She’s a bit senile now.

  And who knows, she may have just made it up.

  I can’t believe this.

  Who would make up such a thing?

  In Villefranche-sur-Mer, there are people who know.

  So many years later, people are still whispering.

  For years, the guilty ones lived here.

  Just like they lived everywhere else.

  There is no expiration date on denunciation.

  But it remains buried.

  Even today, no one will say what everyone knows.

  Since then, I have often thought about this.

  Should I have pursued my investigation?

  Found the son or daughter of whoever denounced Charlotte?

  To what end?

  Is it really that important?

  8

  At nightfall, the truck enters Villefranche-sur-Mer.

  And stops in the middle of the town center, outside the pharmacy.

  Two Germans get out to ask directions.

  And are given them, precisely, politely.

  Thanking their hosts, they leave, delighted to receive such a friendly welcome.

  Might the informer have been deliberately vague in the address they gave?

  Arranging things so they could quickly warn Charlotte that the Germans were after her.

  Were they frightened or were they willing collaborators?

  Charlotte has lived here for years.

  Everyone knows her.

  So what went on in the head of the person who gave directions?

  After all, she is a bit strange, that girl.

  She doesn’t talk much.

  You don’t really know what she’s thinking.

  No, seriously.

  A little interrogation won’t do her any harm.

  At worst, they’ll drive off with her somewhere.

  Headlights off, the truck comes to a halt soundlessly.

  Two men enter on each side of the garden.

  Charlotte is just coming out of the house.

  She looks up and sees the soldiers.

  They rush at her, grab her by the arms.

  She screams at the top of her voice.

  She struggles, tries to get away.

  One of the Germans violently yanks her hair.

  And punches her in the gut.

  She tells them she’s pregnant, begs for mercy.

  Please, leave me in peace.

  This makes no difference to them.

  As the soldiers are trying to subdue her, Alexander comes out into the garden.

  He wants to intercede, to take Charlotte back from enemy hands.

  But what can he do against a rifle?

  They threaten him and he takes a few steps back, leans against the wall.

  They tell Charlotte she must pack a few belongings.

  Head down, she doesn’t respond.

  One of the Germans pushes her toward the house.

  Her legs cannot move, and she falls in the grass.

  They
brutally yank her to her feet.

  Alexander wants to do something, but there is still a gun pointed at him.

  He realizes they are going to take her away.

  Only her.

  They are not interested in him.

  It’s unbelievable.

  He can’t let her go, with their child.

  No.

  So he looks at one of the soldiers and yells:

  You have to take me too: I’m Jewish!

  Charlotte and Alexander walk upstairs.

  They must pack some clothes.

  She wants to take a book, but they won’t allow it.

  Just clothes and a blanket, and hurry up.

  A few minutes later, they are sitting in the back of the truck.

  The vehicle speeds away into the night.

  Brunner will be happy.

  9

  They are crammed into the hotel courtyard, along with other arrested Jews.

  The most terrifying rumors circulate.

  They hear screams, sometimes gunshots.

  Brunner’s torture chamber is located next to his bedroom.

  Sometimes he gets up in the middle of the night to piss on a Jew.

  From his window, he can see the prisoners.

  He takes pleasure in watching their fear and despair.

  But at the same time he knows he must do all he can to reassure them.

  The peacefulness of the transfers depends on it.

  No one must guess the next stage of the program.

  They must avoid hysteria and desperate acts of bravery.

  Brunner himself comes to speak to them.

  He puts on his most affable voice.

  Though this is the same voice that screams at people before killing them in cold blood.

  He admits that he sometimes loses his temper with the more obstinate prisoners.

  But he wishes them no harm.

  If everyone plays their part, there will be no trouble.

  He tells them about a Jewish state that has just been created, in Poland.

  We will give you receipts for your money.

  It will be returned to you once you are there.

  The community in Krakow will help you settle down.

  Everyone will find a job that suits them.

  Who really believes this?

  Maybe all of them.

  After all, Charlotte’s father returned from the camps.

  She herself was liberated from Gurs.

  They must not give up hope.

  Early in the morning on the fifth day, they have to leave.

  They walk to the station, where a train awaits them.

  The French police help the Germans, taking care of logistics.

  This is a convoy of several hundred people.

  Once they are inside the train, nothing happens.

  Why cram them all inside if they are not going anywhere?

  They are waiting for Brunner to give the green light.

  Maybe he simply wants to prolong his pleasure.

  They begin to feel thirsty, to struggle for breath.

  Alexander tells them his wife is pregnant.

  So they do their best to give her some space.

  So she can sit down, with her knees in her face.

  No one can hear, but she sings to herself.

  A German lullaby from her childhood.

  Finally the train starts moving, and a breath of air enters the carriage.

  10

  On September 27, 1943, they arrive at Drancy.

  Alexander and Charlotte are immediately separated.

  This is a transit camp.

  Death’s waiting room.

  11

  On October 7, at four in the morning, they must be ready.

  Each deportee must write their name on their luggage.

  Still the illusion of a future home.

  In order to reduce panic to a minimum, families are reunited.

  At last Charlotte is back with her husband, who is already in a much weakened state.

  On the platform, she notices certain men.

  They are dressed as if for a wedding.

  Elegant, standing upright, holding their suitcases.

  Wearing hats that they might remove if a woman passes by.

  She does not see even the slightest hint of hysteria.

  It is a form of civility amid the ruin.

  Whatever happens, do not show the enemy your true devastation.

  Do not offer him the pleasure of a torture victim’s face.

  They are convoy number 60.

  Seventy people are crammed into a carriage designed to sit forty.

  With all their luggage too, of course.

  Inside the carriage, there are old people and lunatics taken from the asylums.

  Who can really believe this will be a labor camp?

  Why would they take the insane and the dying?

  This clue does not escape them.

  One young man says: they’re going to kill us, we have to get out of here.

  He tries to find a means of escape, wants to smash the floorboards.

  Several people grab him to stop him doing this.

  The Germans were very clear on this point.

  If a single person is discovered missing, everyone in the carriage will be executed.

  Time passes slowly.

  Or rather, in truth, time does not pass.

  Strangely, glimmers of hope appear here and there.

  In very rare and brief instants.

  Charlotte thinks she will be reunited with her family.

  Maybe even Alfred is already there.

  How will he react when he sees her married and pregnant?

  To her surprise, it is her father she misses most.

  All those years without any news.

  Alexander is no longer able to reassure her.

  Hour by hour, he is breaking down.

  An ulcer gnaws at his stomach.

  He looks almost transparent.

  Some voices say: you must be in good health.

  When you arrive, stand up straight.

  Pinch your cheeks so they have some color.

  The labor camp will take only the strong ones.

  But how can anyone look strong after three days in these conditions?

  Charlotte and Alexander support each other as best they can.

  At each stop, he fights to get her some water.

  She is so afraid that the baby will die.

  Sometimes she can’t feel it move anymore.

  And then, suddenly, there is a quiver, a kick.

  As if the baby, too, is already learning to save its strength.

  Beginning its life as a survivor.

  12

  At last the train reaches its destination.

  The night is black and icy cold.

  As at the start of the journey, the carriages remain closed.

  Why don’t they open the doors?

  Why don’t they let them breathe?

  They must wait for daybreak.

  This lasts more than two hours.

  Finally the deportees emerge from the train.

  Distraught, exhausted, starving.

  In the morning mist, they cannot see the camp.

  They cannot even see the dogs that bark at them.

  All they can see is a sign above the entrance gates.

  Arbeit Macht Frei.

  Work makes you free.

  Now they must line up in rows.

  Alexander and Charlotte know that they are going to be separated again.

  They savor their final moments together.

  Soon, they will be told which group they must join.

  Some will be spared from an instant death.

  Because this convoy has arrived the day after Yom Kippur.

  When the Nazis gassed a few more Jews than usual.

  As if to mark the occasion.

  So there are lots of free places in the shelters.

  …

&
nbsp; The line moves slowly forward.

  What should they do?

  What are the right responses?

  Charlotte wants to explain that they have made a mistake.

  She is not Jewish.

  Can’t they see she isn’t Jewish?

  And she’s also five months pregnant.

  They must let her get some rest in a private hospital.

  They’re not going to leave her like this.

  Now it is her turn.

  In the end, she says nothing.

  A man speaks to her without even looking at her.

  He asks for her last name and first name.

  Her date of birth.

  Then he asks what job she does.

  She replies: draftswoman.

  He looks up at her, contemptuous.

  What the hell is that?

  I’m a painter, she says.

  Staring at her, he finally notices that she’s pregnant.

  He asks her if she’s expecting a baby.

  She nods.

  The man is neither pleasant nor unpleasant.

  He simply notes the information down.

  And bangs the stamp down on her form.

  Then he indicates to Charlotte the group she must join.

  A group with lots of women, essentially.

  She walks forward slowly, carrying her suitcase.

  Shooting regular glances toward Alexander.

  Now it is his turn.

  It is over more quickly than hers.

  He is told to join the group opposite his wife’s.

  He looks for her as he walks.

  When he sees her, he gives a little wave.

  A few yards later, he is swallowed up by the mist.

  Charlotte loses him.

  Less than three months later, he will die of exhaustion.

  13

  On the wall of the building is a sign that says everyone must take a shower.

  Before entering the shower room, they all get undressed.

  They must hang their clothes on a hook.

  A guard yells at them.

  Whatever you do, don’t forget the number of your coatrack.

  The women memorize this last number.

  And enter the vast room.

  Some hold hands.

  The doors are then double-locked, as in a prison.

  …

  Naked under the cold light, the bodies appear gaunt.

  Charlotte and her belly stand out.

  Amid the others, she does not move.

  She seems to remove herself from the moment.

  To be here.

  Epilogue

  1

  In May 1943, Paula and Albert are arrested in Holland.

  Working as nurse’s aids, they survive the camp in Westerbork.

  Albert is asked to sterilize Jewish women.

  Especially those from mixed marriages.