The First Class

The little girl hurried along a road in Alsace. The first snow lay over the wheat stubble. She was Paulette. Or was she Paulette? Under the Germans she had always been called Paula. She was eleven years old. But she could remember far back--almost five years. She was not quite sure that she could remember when the French soldiers went away. She was not quite sure that she could remember when the German soldiers came. But she could remember something. That something was fear.

Now the Germans had gone again and there was no fear--except that Paulette was terribly afraid of being late. For this morning the new French class began at the Town Hall, with a new teacher, Sister Elizabeth. When the Germans were there, everybody had to speak German. French was verboten. Now everybody must speak French. It was funny.

In front of the Town Hall other little girls were chattering. There was Christl. But she wasn't Christl anymore--now she was Claudette. There was Bernadette, whose brother had run off to the Maquis. And there was Maria Pia, who could scarcely speak French at all because, when the Germans came, she had been only four.

There Is Much To Do. The school bell rang. The little girls bustled onto their narrow benches. Sister Elizabeth called the roll. Instead of "Hier!", the little girls answered "Ici", and giggled at the unfamiliar sound. Then Sister Elizabeth spoke in French, translating phrase by phrase into the Alsatian German dialect:

"This is our first class in a long time. There is much to do. All that is needed is a very good will. . . . When a French soldier asks you the way, you will be able to smile and say, Je vous montrerai le chemin--I will show you the way."

The little girls repeated after the teacher: "Do not answer Ja, say Oui, ma soeur. . . . Voici la table. Voil`a le mur. Void le crucifix. This is the table. That is the wall. Here is the crucifix. . . ."

Sister Elizabeth asked Maria Pia and Bernadette to open the windows. From the distant Rhine rolled the thunder of guns. Suddenly, much more loudly, came the roar of planes. Eyes widened in panic, voices shrilled: "Flugzeuge! Flugzeuge!" (Airplanes! Airplanes!). The little girls had remembered fear.

Said Sister Elizabeth: "Close the windows and sit down. We will repeat, Void la table. Voil`a le mur. Void le crudfix.--This is the table. That is the wall. Here is the crucifix. . . ."

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