by Kathy Kacer
Albert was the first to go. He shook hands with the clown and thanked him over and over for all his help. Then he fell to his stomach and slid into the ditch and under the wire. He crouched on the other side and looked back, waiting.
Helen was next. At first, she hesitated.
“I-I don’t know how … I’m not sure what …”
The clown brushed her stammers aside. “You found your strength in the forest. Don’t lose it. Just stay safe. That’s all the thanks I need.”
Helen nodded and then threw herself at the clown, hugging him tightly before she finally pulled away.
Without another word, the clown held the barbed wire up for Helen to slither under.
And finally, it’s was Henry’s turn.
For a moment, he didn’t want to leave. He wanted to stay with the clown, as much as he knew he had to be with his sister and Albert.
“You really must begin to call me Marcel,” the clown began. “We’re friends now. We’ve been through a lot together, haven’t we?” he added.
Henry nodded and smiled. “Marcel.” It sounded strange in his mouth. This man would always and forever be simply the clown to him. “Thank you,” he said, and then he flew into the clown’s arms, hugging him with all his strength, not wanting to let go.
The clown finally pulled Henry’s arms from around him and leaned forward to look him in the eyes.
“Practice hard, my young friend,” he said. “Perhaps we’ll meet again when all of this madness has passed. You can show me everything that you’ve learned in the meantime.”
Henry nodded and wiped at the tears pooling in his eyes. Then he took a deep breath and scurried under the wire to join the others.
CHAPTER 38
Helen
No sooner had they all stood up on the Swiss side of the border than they were surrounded by soldiers.
“Halt! Show your hands.” Loud voices shouted at them.
Helen raised her arms into the air. Henry and Albert did the same. Albert was the first to speak.
“We have papers,” he exclaimed. “They’re in our pockets. Can we show them to you?”
These soldiers did not look as if they were going to give them a chance to explain or show anything. They continued to wave their rifles in the children’s faces, ordering them to stand still, raise their hands, not say a word. The soldiers wore long green jackets, tightened at the waist with thick brown belts. Helen couldn’t see their faces for the bowl-shaped helmets that were pulled low over their eyes. But everything about them reminded her of the Nazis who had surrounded them in the forest on the other side. These guards, with their guns leveled at the spot between her eyes, were terrifying.
Albert was still talking, explaining that they were Jewish children from one of the convents in France. Helen finally chimed in. “If you’ll just let me,” she begged, “I’m going to reach into my pocket and pull out my documents.” Even to her own ears, her voice was remarkably calm and strong.
The soldiers hesitated, staring at the children and then at each other. Finally, one of them nodded at Helen. Slowly and carefully, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her paper. She held it out to the soldier, who grabbed it and then lowered his rifle to rest against his leg. A moment later, he nodded to Helen. She turned to Henry and Albert and said, “Okay. Show them your papers.”
She watched as Henry reached down and pulled his identity document from his pocket. Albert did the same. They extended these to the soldier, who grabbed them as well. He brought the three documents up close to his face, squinting to see what was written, and then lowering the papers to compare the photographs to the children standing in front of him. The red letter J glowed from the top of each document. While this soldier inspected their papers, the others continued to point their rifles at the children.
Back and forth the soldier went, first to the papers, then to the children, then down to the papers again. Helen was beginning to squirm. She could feel a line of sweat gathering just above her eyebrows. But she didn’t want to show these soldiers that she was afraid. Marcel was right. She had found her strength back in France. She knew what to do if danger was about. She willed herself to remain calm and she stared evenly at the soldiers.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the soldier looked up once again. This time, he seemed more relaxed. He pushed his helmet to the back of his head to reveal his eyes. They seemed warm and maybe just a bit welcoming. When he picked up his rifle again, he didn’t point it at Helen and the others. He simply slung it over his shoulder. The other soldiers followed his lead. Then he turned toward the small building and motioned for Helen and the others to follow. Albert went first, with Henry close behind.
Helen turned back once more to glance across the barbed wire to the French side. She wasn’t sure what it was that she was looking for—a last wave from Marcel? A signal of some kind? There was nothing. Everything was quiet across the border. The trees were still, their branches fluttering slightly with the wind. Then suddenly, something caught her eye—a small movement in the bushes. Helen paused and squinted. A moment later, Marcel emerged from where he had been hiding in wait to see that they were safe.
Helen’s face broke into a wide grin. She raised her arm to wave at Marcel. He smiled and then brought his hands together in front of him. As Helen watched, he placed one hand on top of the other and began to move them both up and down, rolling them like waves on the sea. Helen had watched him do this exact movement when he was teaching Henry back at the convent. Marcel’s hands were transforming into a bird, with wings that were spread wide. The bird continued to swoop up and down, and then, as Helen watched, Marcel stretched his hands high into the air and released the bird, letting it take flight and soar—free at last.
Helen followed the imaginary bird up into the sky. Then her eyes came back to rest on Marcel, who turned and disappeared back into the bushes.
Catching up with Henry, she put an arm around his shoulder. He leaned into her, and together, they walked onward.
Who Was Marcel Marceau?
Marcel Marceau was born Marcel Mangel in 1923 in Strasbourg, France, the son of a Jewish butcher. His father introduced him to music and movies at a very young age. When he was only five years old, he saw a film with Charlie Chaplin, the American silent film actor. Marcel was fascinated that someone could entertain an audience without saying a word. He was determined that he would grow up to entertain people in the same way.
Marcel was only ten years old when Adolf Hitler came to power and began to introduce laws and rules to restrict the freedom of Jewish people. Conditions worsened until September 1, 1939, when Germany under Hitler invaded Poland to begin the Second World War. On the same day, the Jews of Marcel’s city were ordered to pack their belongings for transport to a labor camp in southern France. Marcel was sixteen years old when he and his younger brother, Alain, fled from Strasbourg and joined the French Resistance. Marcel changed his last name to Marceau after a famous general of the French Revolution.
Marcel was skilled at forging identity cards, and he began to smuggle Jewish children who were hiding in convents and orphanages in southern France to the Swiss border. He pretended to be a scoutmaster leading a group of campers on hikes. He often used mime to keep the young children quiet and calm. And he sometimes concealed their real identity documents in sandwiches slathered with mayonnaise, knowing the soldiers would never want to risk dirtying their uniforms by handling the mushy sandwiches. He and the other members of his Resistance group are credited with saving the lives of hundreds of Jewish children.
When the war ended, Marcel discovered that while his mother had survived, his father had been killed in the concentration camp called Auschwitz. He began to study mime seriously by enrolling as a student in the School of Dramatic Art in Paris. It was there that he invented his most famous mime character, a white-faced clown named Bip who wore a tall hat with a red flower. He b
egan to tour around the world as Bip.
In 1959, he created his own school in Paris and established the Marceau Foundation to promote the art of mime in the United States. He wrote several books and appeared on the stage and in film. He never spoke about his Jewish background, the death of his father, or what he had done to help save Jewish children, although later in his life, he acknowledged that the character of Bip was a tribute to all those who had been silenced in the concentration camps of Europe.
In April 2001, Marcel was awarded the Raoul Wallenberg Medal in recognition of his acts of courage aiding Jews during the Second World War. In accepting the award, Marcel said, “I don’t like to speak about myself, because what I did humbly during the war was only a small part of what happened to heroes who died through their deeds in times of danger.”1
Marcel Marceau died in September 2007 at the age of eighty-four. He was known as the Master of Silence, and was one of the greatest mime artists of all time.
* * *
1. Ronda Robinson. “Marcel Marceau Saved Hundreds of Holocaust Orphans.” www.aish.com/jw/s/Marcel-Marceau-Saved-Hundreds-of-Holocaust-Orphans.html
Acknowledgments
This story was a “gift” to me from Rick Wilks. I’m so grateful to have been given the opportunity to write a book focusing on the life of Marcel Marceau, and I’m thankful for this chance to work with Rick and the wonderful people at Annick Press. Yours is truly a first-class publishing house. I’m looking forward to diving into the next two books in the Heroes Quartet series.
Barbara Berson was a great editor for this story—insightful, thorough, and patient with me as I struggled through the needed changes. Thanks so much for helping guide the manuscript.
As always, to my husband, Ian Epstein, and my children, Gabi Epstein and Jake Epstein; your love, laugher, and encouragement sustain me.
Kathy Kacer is the author of more than twenty books for young readers. A winner of the Silver Birch, Red Maple, and Jewish Book Awards in Canada and the U.S., Kathy has written unforgettable stories inspired by real events. She lives in Toronto, Ontario.
© 2019 Kathy Kacer (text)
Cover art/design by Wenting Li/Kong Njo
Edited by Barbara Berson
Designed by Kong Njo
Annick Press Ltd.
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Cataloging in Publication
Kacer, Kathy, 1954-, author
Masters of silence / Kathy Kacer.
(Heroes quartet) Issued in print and electronic formats.ISBN 978-1-77321-262-3 (hardcover).–ISBN 978-1-77321-261-6 (softcover).–
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Published in the U.S.A. by Annick Press (U.S.) Ltd.
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