7.
Morning Rituals.Before launching into the episode of the Savignole bothy, this misty, shimmering April morning, as the day slowly sheds its kapok cover, and after I have bathed in my stream which I was to call Clairefontaine after the French ‘comptine’ of the same name, I must finish the story of my first days with Raboullet.
Like the 2nd of February, the 22nd was decisive. But whilst the former was dragged down into the mud of treachery, the latter ended in the clear waters of hope. This day marked the beginning of my life as a member of the Maquis.
Raboullet’s generosity through the weeks and months of toil and pain before the partial Liberation of France (in the summer of l944) was a gift to me, and to me alone. So he persisted in saying. Each potato, chunk of cheese, smoked ham,
