Book Two THE RIGHTEOUS AND THE JUST The Holocaust in the Italian occupied zone in southern France during World War II Before an Allied military presence exists on the continent, Roosevelt sends Allen Dulles, the future head of America's CIA, to Berne, Switzerland. Through the American legation in Berne and his myriad financial and diplomatic associates in Europe, Dulles courts numerous liaisons to Heinrich Himmler and to the conspiracy groups inside of Germany, assists in the planning of several assassination plots on Hitler's life, and participates in the initial schemes to covertly transfer millions of US dollars from "the Joint" -- the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee -- to various outlets in Europe. Roosevelt and the WEJ back these transfers of "Joint" and US funds to Joint and WEJ contacts in Europe to save or ransom or assist Jews anywhere even if the funds fall into enemy hands as bribes or pad their bank accounts. And one such rescue attempt crops up almost immediately for Dulles and Roosevelt and the WEJ in southern France. In the summer of 1943 with Allied armies poised to invade the continent, Pius and the Vatican, the Italian government and its military, and Roosevelt and the WEJ combine and collaborate with a Jewish-Italian banker, Angelo Donati, and his personal and close confidant, a Capuchin monk, Pierre Marie Benoit, in a bold and courageous scheme to rescue fifty to one hundred thousand Jews trapped in Nice and along the Cote d'Azur of southern France and evacuate them to North Africa. Leo V. Kanawada, Jr.

The Holocauset Diaries: Book II

The Righteous and the JustBy Leo V. Kanawada, Jr.

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2010 Leo V. Kanawada, Jr.
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4520-5719-4

Chapter One

ALONG THE FRENCH-SWISS BORDER COMMANDANT WERNER HOLTZ'S QUARTERS

"Werner?" Racine pleaded. Softly at first. Compassionately even. "Werner? Please." She paused. "Easy."

Initially ecstatic over his ability to rouse her passion and to feel and watch her body contort and stretch and arch and sweat and squirm and react under him, he gently turned her. Their previous forays in the missionary position were more than adequate for him, but now he wanted something more. Something new. Something more erotic, more adventuresome, more physical. French bitches after all – his friends at the Officers' Club counseled – preferred it that way.

"Werner?" She panted. "Oh," she moaned. "Werner," she whispered as he gently turned and pulled her buttocks up against him. Breathing heavily now, he clutched her tightly, snugly, molding her, positioning her perfectly-rounded derriere into him.

"Werner, I don't know if –" she slowly, but affectionately blurted out again, stroking his cheek with her right hand while nibbling ever so gently around his ear. Trying to balance on all fours under his weight, she thought, was more than she bargained for and more than she wanted to endure for the cause.

"My leg, Werner. My stump. You're –" He seemed oblivious to her protestations. Softly humming, he continued in his trance, rotating and thrusting, and thrusting and groaning, and kissing and licking and biting her back, rubbing her thighs and massaging her breasts with every remaining ounce of strength he could muster.

For the past few months – ever since November of 1942 when the Wehrmacht descended into Vichy France and occupied her country from Paris to the Mediterranean – Racine Chameau slept with Commandant Werner Holtz. Actually, she only slept with him when she needed to cross the border into Switzerland. Or vice versa. From Annemasse on the French side to Geneva only fifteen kilometers to the north. To her, it was an affair of convenience, of necessity. For him, a welcome interlude at his border crossing complex, his new duty station so very, very far away from home and so distant from the enticing, but very, very verboten Geneva.

Racine Chameau was a courier, a courier in the French Resistance. However, to a courier in the resistance or in the Jewish underground, Geneva was far from verboten. In actual fact, Geneva was a godsend, a beacon, a magnet, a promised land, a pot at the end of a rainbow. A pot that contained the very treasure essential to the survival and rescue of her people and to Jews everywhere in Europe – cash from the Joint.

It was cash from Saly Mayer, the head of the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee's office in Geneva, that was handed on to contacts like Marc Jarblum of the French Resistance in Geneva. He in turn passed it on to hundreds of couriers like Racine who – by hook or crook or by any means imaginable – surreptitiously crossed the Swiss border hundreds of times to distribute these Joint funds to hundreds of secret operatives and organizations in France. And like this crossing as well as every one of her other trips to and from Geneva, it was in the carefully, concealed compartment of Racine's wooden leg that that treasure was conveniently stashed. Hidden. Locked away. Thousands, hundreds of thousands, millions of Swiss francs from Marc Jarblum, bound in the "first leg" of its journey to either the prominent U.G.I.F., Union generale des Israelites de France, or its other nation-wide, clandestine organizations; The O.S.E., Oeuvre du Secours aux Enfants (Relief Organization for Children); The Federation des Societies Juives de France; or The E.I.F., Eclaireurs Israelites de France (the Scout Movement).

"Werner, darling. Please. Please wait."

Gasping for breath, "What, what is it, Ra?"

"My leg. My wooden leg. I'll never be able to enjoy this unless we unstrap it. Now. Please. First. And fast."

"Oh," he groaned.

Carefully unbuckling it, she slid the leg under the pillows, patting it, stroking it as if it were Werner in all his glory.

"There," she said, wiggling slowly back into position, much to Werner's delight. "Now, where were we?"

Chapter Two

ANNEMASSE, FRANCE

By eight o'clock the following morning, Racine was exhausted, but happily on her way to Annemasse. It was just a short trip from the border to the hospital. When they arrived at the entrance, she thanked Werner's driver, who by now – he boasted – could drive the route blindfolded. She promised to see him soon.

"You name the time, I know the place." He waved, said good-bye, and drove away.

Thirty minutes later, Dr. Joseph Weill opened his office door and said, "Why, Racine, back so soon? Any problems?"

She flipped her hair back over her shoulder and responded rather nonchalantly, "A walk in the park."

She had no difficulty walking to the home of her boss, the flamboyant painter known only in Annemasse as Gabriel. She was his housekeeper, both here in Annemasse and in Geneva, where he had a larger home and studio. Hence, she was the perfect courier with the perfect excuse to cross the border. And, as she later discovered, only one of a number of couriers organized and led by Gabriel for the sole purpose of transferring funds – the treasure from Saly Mayer and the Joint in Geneva – to Dr. Weill and his clandestined operatives, and other Catholic and Jewish organizations and religious leaders, throughout Vichy France.

"Doctor Weill is a legend in his own time, Racine. For the past three years, he – along with a courageous, young woman, Andree Salomon, a former scout leader in the E.I.F. movement and presently a director of the O.S.E. – has been conducting secret child-rescue operations throughout our Vichy France sector, our old, so-called unoccupied sector now inundated by the barbaric, maniacal Nazi invader. But thankfully, as you know, it's a mutually agreed upon occupation, shared by our benevolent, supportive Italian brothers."

"Yes. Thank God for them, Gabriel."

He was much older than Racine, and she adored and admired him and cherished his friendship and his love. Being fatherless from birth, she doted on him as if he were the father whom she had never known.

"They have saved thousands of Jewish children, Ra." He continued to paint as he spoke in glowing terms about the exploits of Andree and of his friend, Dr. Weill. "They're scattered throughout France. The children arelivingwithCatholicfamilies,non-Jewishfamilies,inChristianhomes or hidden in attics, basements and wherever. Only some, mind you, have been evacuated from Marseilles to Spain. But many – probably more than a thousand – Doctor Weill secretly arranged to cross the border into Switzerland. Mon Dieu, even Laval wants him arrested. And the Gestapo, he has told me, visits his home in Strasbourg from time to time, hoping to find him. To catch him off guard."

She listened attentively.

"The money, the francs, you bring over, Ra, or the promissary notes by Mayer and the Joint to pay lenders after the war, they are like gold to the underground. With the other couriers in our group and the hundreds and thousands of couriers and resistance fighters in France, the funds are carried primarily to Lyon. To Brener. Maurice Brener. Whenever a Jewish...