Jersey
under the Swastika!

Page 11 - Philip Frederick Le Sauteur

CHAPTER TWO (SECTION 4)

During the later part of 1940, and for the first time, inquiries as to the welfare of relatives were being accepted by the Feldcommandatur for transmission through the International Red Cross organization. This matter of those separated from their loved ones abroad had been a sore point with the Islanders who had remained in their Island home. The evacuations had been carried through so quickly, and with so little time for any thought being devoted to it, that many had not realized all that such a severance would entail in the long run. A more long-term consideration may have tempted many not to part with any of their family. In any case, whatever may have been the decision, the fact remained that families everywhere had been split asunder, and for month after month those left behind had had no word as to what had happened to their loved ones, many of the latter being very young persons. There had been no word, too, as to whether they had arrived safely in every case. No wonder, then, that those involved at home were continually in a state of worry about those abroad. A spark of hope of something real coming to their knowledge was naturally engendered in the minds of the Islanders, but it is almost tragic to relate that very few replies were ever received to the inquiries entrusted to the authorities concerned.

An amusing incident occurred one evening in the middle of October of this year. The land lighthouses were controlled by switches at the town harbour, and apparently a sentry on duty there must have been tampering with them to see what would happen. The result was that the Greve d'Azette light was left on after the black-out time. Not knowing from which point the light was controlled, the German authorities, promptly suspected everybody in the district of sabotage. They herded all passers-by into groups without volunteering any explanation, and forbade them to move or enter into conversation. This impasse continued for about half an hour, after which time the assembled folks were instructed to go home, as by then the Germans had discovered where the switches were, and knew quite well that it could not have been an act of sabotage.

On October 21st all Jews were required to register themselves, it being pointed out that if there were any doubts about their being Jews, they were given the benefit of the doubts and called Jews.

Other registrations were ordered, too, these covering all French, Dutch and Belgian nationals resident in the Island, whilst all Italian nationals were invited to sign up for a return to their native country.

The German Authorities seemed to take a delight in issuing orders under which any show of pleasure might be the basis of dire penalties. Thus, it was forbidden to applaud (or otherwise) in any of the cinema shows. For those who had had the misfortune to be instructed to surrender their cars, it was forbidden them to have one last joy ride on their way to the purchasing centre. For them, too, there were dire penalties for any breach of the order!

The subject of servicemen on the Island seemed to be giving the German Authorities more than a little anxiety. One can probably understand this spate of worry, for such men are obviously a danger point wherever they may chance to be. The call had already gone out for their immediate reporting to the authorities concerned. Suspecting — and probably right, too! — that some of these men on leave in the Island had not reported themselves as prisoners-of-war when the call was made, immunity to those who had been concealing them was duly promised by the Germans, as well as ordinary prisoner-of-war treatment for the men themselves, provided the men surrendered themselves immediately. Copies of these and other notices, warnings and orders, had been posted in every conceivable place — on doors, windows and walls — until the town was almost smothered with posters.

A Military Zone was established, and this extended right around the Island, and in this area a curfew of 8 p.m. until 7.30 a.m. was operative. At some places this zone included only the foreshore and the sea wall, but in the west and north it extended inland for upwards of a mile. This was naturally a decided nuisance to the unfortunate people who happened to reside within the area, especially so as warning had been given that civilians failing to stop immediately on being ordered to would be shot.

Several hundred men of the fresh unit were brought into the Island for patrol and sentry duty. These men, apparently, were over military age and unfit for active service.

The edge of a cyclone passed over the Island on November 13th, and gusts of more than 100 miles per hour, with an average for more than an hour of 85 miles per hour, were registered. Thousands of trees were uprooted, walls blown down, plate glass windows blown in, and scarcely a building in the Island escaped damage of some kind — so that there was plenty of work available in the way of clearing away the debris and repairing the damage.

An R.A.F. bomber was brought down near Guernsey, and the four members of its crew passed through Jersey on their way to a prison camp. Attempts to exchange cheering words with local men working on the quays were promptly stopped.

A German plane in trouble jettisoned a quantity of incendiaries at St. Ouen's, but, fortunately for the Islanders, most of them landed in fields, and only one barn caught fire — even the latter was quickly extinguished.

The Feldgendarmerie made their first appearance in the Island at the end of November this year (1940), one of their first acts being to enforce a long-forgotten order banning cycling two abreast, with punishment to fit the "crime" — a week's confiscation of the cycle!

Some very candid remarks on the part of a well-known solicitor, transmitted by his client to the Commandant, resulted in the solicitor being given a term of imprisonment. Neither particulars of the trial, nor its findings, were made public.

The nervousness of the garrison troops was shown, on November 26th, when a local pilot was dispatched to bring a boat from Gorey to town. Approaching the town harbour, he was fired on by heavy guns, and he naturally headed out to sea, away from the excitement. The Germans, feeling sure that they had hit the boat, sent out the lifeboat to pick up any survivors. Fortunately, their aim had been as weak as their nerves!

During the early days of December, British air activity along the adjacent French coast was distinctly audible. Undoubtedly there was some effective hitting back at the German Luftwaffe. The vibrations of the explosions shook the whole Island, with only a matter of seconds between each of them. The local searchlights came into action on these occasions, giving a few futile sweeps across the sky in a haphazard fashion several minutes after the civil population had heard — and recognised — the even drone of the British planes.

Local news at this time included an order that everyone over the age of 14 must carry an Identity Card, this to be complete with photograph.

Christmas 1940 was not nearly so bad a time as one might have expected in the unpleasant circumstances of enemy occupation. As a special concession, the curfew was raised to 3 a.m. for both Christmas and New Year's Eve. The public houses were granted an extension to 2.30 a.m.

Most people were able to find some "extras" in their store cupboards for the occasion, and the shops released some of  the goods which they had been holding back. Those who met the German troops in the public houses and elsewhere, found the men full of good will, and it must be admitted that they were quiet and well-behaved.