Category: Algeria

POST 192: MY FATHER’S FRENCH FOREIGN LEGION BATTERY, 1939-1942: PHOTOS AND HISTORY

Note: This post links to two well researched articles written by an amateur historian who is the owner and administrator of a French Foreign Legion (FFL) website. As a member of the French Foreign Legion between November 1938 and November 1943, my father, Dr. Otto Bruck, took dozens of ultrarare photos during his time stationed in Algeria. Using high-resolution images I shared with the amateur historian, he explains what they tell us about the FFL artillery battery unit my father was a member of while also relating some of the unit’s history.

Related Posts:

POST 26: “APATRIDE” (STATELESS)

POST 79: DR. OTTO BRUCK’S PATH TO THE FRENCH FOREIGN LEGION

POST 80: DR. OTTO BRUCK IN THE FRENCH FOREIGN LEGION

POST 81: PHOTO ESSAY OF DR. OTTO BRUCK’S TIME IN THE FRENCH FOREIGN LEGION

 

When I began my family history blog in 2017, I imagined my storytelling would largely follow a linear path. I assumed it would generally track an individual family member through the various phases of their lives from when they were young to their demise. This was never realistic as one simply does not learn about the lives of people in a linear fashion. Even with close members of my family, I’m continually uncovering new documents from unexpected places or learning more about them from people who knew them, even briefly. In the past year alone, I’ve surprisingly found new documents on both my father and aunt Suzanne Müller, née Bruck (1904-1942) from unexpected sources.

Apropos of the current publication, I wrote about my father’s time in the French Foreign Legion (Legion) in a sequence of three posts (Posts 79, 80, & 81) written in 2020. Those articles focused on what prompted my father to enlist in the Legion, where and when he joined up, what enabled his enlistment in this military corps of the French Army, where he was stationed, and more. I also discussed the geopolitical developments that permitted my father to travel from Algeria to France in 1941 across what I assumed were “enemy” lines to visit his beloved sister Suzanne, the last time he would ever see her. I also briefly touched on my father’s military deployments in Algeria relying on his service records obtained from the Legion. What I did not previously talk about was the artillery unit my father was a member of.

Thanks to the contributions and in-depth research of an amateur historian named “Peter” who stumbled on the blog posts and the accompanying photos about my father’s time in the Legion and recognized their significance, I now know more about his time in this famous military force and the artillery battery of which he was a member. Peter’s findings reinforce my belief that learning about one’s family can come in completely unexpected ways. Admittedly his discoveries reveal more about the history of the artillery unit than they do about my father, though in fact the two are intertwined. Because Peter’s articles will be of interest to only a small fraction of readers, I mostly defer to what he has written on the subject by linking at the bottom of this post to Peter’s two articles.

It is worth emphasizing, however, what I’ve realized for some time about my father’s photos. They occasionally offer a unique peek into some rarely documented places or events that permit fragmentary aspects of history to be better understood or inaccurate portrayals to be corrected. As Peter remarked in his initial email to me requesting permission to share some of my father’s rare photos, “I have been interested in the Legion for more than 20 years, I love Legion Saharan units, but I have never seen the BSPL [EDITOR’S NOTE: Batterie Saharienne Portée de Légion, Foreign Legion Saharan Motorized Battery] barracks in Ouargla [EDITOR’S NOTE: the administrative center of the Oasis Territory, which comprised the eastern desert regions of French Algeria]. It is an extremely rare piece. I dare say that even the official Legion and their archive don’t have one. The same stands for a photo showing a Legion Saharan unit taking part in a parade prior to or during WWII (the oldest one I know/have seen is from 1945-46).”

With the above background, let me review some of what I know about my father’s service in the Legion and the organization over time of the Saharan artillery unit he served during his engagement. On the advice of one of his closest cousins living in Nice, France, after leaving Germany in 1938, my father traveled to Paris to enlist in the FFL. From France, he was transferred to Sidi Bel Abbès in northwestern Algeria, then the Legion’s main headquarters. Then in January 1939, my father was sent to Saïda for standard four-month basic training before being assigned in May 1939 to the so-called Batterie Saharienne Portée (BSP), Saharan Motorized Battery, in Ouargla. As mentioned above, Ouargla was the administrative center of the Oasis Territory, which comprised the eastern desert regions of French Algeria. (Figure 1) My father remained in Ouargla without interruption until the end of 1942.

 

Figure 1. Administrative map of French Algeria 1934-1955 showing the Oasis Territory in pink

 

My father’s military records show, however, that on October 1, 1939, he was reassigned to the then newly created Compagnie Automobile de Transport du Territoire des Oasis (C.A.T.T.O.), Oasis Territory Automobile Transport Company. This was a truck-equipped unit tasked with transportation duties across the Oasis Territory. As Peter notes in Part I of his two-part series, other than the date of its formation and its commander, Captain Ardassenoff, an officer of Russian origin, no other records or evidence about the C.A.T.T.O. survive. Followers can read Peter’s conjecture about the creation of the C.A.T.T.O.

By November 1940, the Batterie Saharienne Portée de Légion (BSPL), the Foreign Legion Saharan Motorized Battery, had been established in Ouargla. The 1re BSPL, one of the Foreign Legion artillery batteries, was originally established as the Batterie Saharienne Portée (BSP), Saharan Motorized Battery, in Ouargla on July 1, 1938. At the time, it was part of the 1er Régiment Étranger d’Infanterie (1er REI), 1st Foreign Infantry Regiment. According to Peter, the BSP was the first Foreign Legion unit to officially bear the title “Saharan.” This unit was responsible for policing Algeria’s border with Libya, then occupied by Italy, an ally of Germany.

According to Peter, the establishment of the BSPL in November 1940 represented the formal separation of the BSP from the 1er REI (i.e., recall the BSP was originally part of the 1er REI). This date corresponds with when my father became a member of the newly created BSPL. This reorganization followed France’s defeat at the hands of Germany during the Battle of France in May-June 1940 when France was forced to sign an armistice with Nazi Germany. While Legion units in North Africa retained relative autonomy, German and Italian “commissions” regularly inspected French garrisons to ensure the armistice terms were adhered to.

This recalls something I discussed in Post 80 where I mentioned that the Legion command would send some of their units on assignment to remote areas in the Sahara whenever commission inspections were scheduled to protect their Jewish servicemen. To remind readers, while in the Legion my father was assigned an alias, Marcel Berger, though this would have been unlikely to protect him from a “vigorous” interrogation.

As Peter explains, in March 1941, the BSPL’s name was changed for administrative reasons to the 1re BSPL when a second Legion Saharan battery was created at the desert fortress of Fort Flatters.

Peter makes an astute observation about my father’s photographs, namely, that none of them show artillery pieces. This is striking since the unit my father was a member of was an artillery unit, suggesting that my father had been serving in the truck transport detachment since 1939. According to Peter, my father’s photographs confirm he remained in the transport detachment until the end of his service in the 1re BSPL.

Following the landing of the Allied forces in French Morocco and Algeria in November 1942, the Allies secured the allegiance of the French North African command and its armies. Then began in early 1943 the campaign aimed at liberating the third French North African territory, Tunisia, from the Germans and Italians. The only picture I have of my father holding a weapon during the Second World War is when the 1re BSPL participated as a support unit in the Tunisian campaign. (Figure 2)

 

Figure 2. My father preparing for the Battle of Tunisia in January 1943 in Touggourt, Algeria

 

My father left the Legion in November 1943 in favor of the British Pioneer Corps. As I’ve explained elsewhere, my father had hoped to get into Britain following the war to resume his dental career; for reasons that remain a mystery this never transpired, and my father only briefly ever again practiced dentistry before coming to America in 1948.

In any case, following the end of his service in the Legion there were a few weeks before my father joined the Pioneer Corps. In the interim, he was briefly assigned to the Groupement de travailleurs étrangers (GTE), Foreign Worker Group, in Colomb- Béchar, western Algeria. Despite his Jewish background and the fact that the Nazi government had revoked his nationality, making him “apatride,” French term for stateless, France still considered him a German national and thus a citizen of an enemy state. Suffice it to say, the Foreign Worker Groups employed foreign nationals in France who were not serving in military units to work on strategically important projects. Peter also notes the following: “For the record, legionnaires were often detached to GTE groups in North Africa as cadres.” In any case, my father was only released from the GTE to join the British Pioneer Corps in late November 1943.

In mid-1944 when my father was already in the British Army, he returned to Ouargla while on leave to visit friends. By then the 1re BSPL had been disbanded and the garrison was now home to the Compagnie Saharienne Portée de Légion (CSPL), the Saharan Motorized Company, later 1re CSPL; this was an automobile company of the same regiment (i.e., 1er REI) and the Legion’s second Saharan unit that had also been established in November 1940, responsible for the western Sahara. Interestingly, perhaps because of his enduring connection to the Sahara, Captain Ardassenoff commanded the CSPL.

Having provided more detail than I intended, I apologize to readers for whom this is overkill. The archaeologist in me compels me towards over explaining things. While I’ve gone into some detail above, readers can find even more information in Peter’s posts. Readers can also find my father’s pictures embedded in Peter’s two articles along with his captions describing what they’re looking at.

One final comment. I’m deeply indebted to Peter for his thoughtful and careful research and analysis of my father’s photos and the military unit he served in while in the Legion. I’m as grateful for Peter’s contribution as he is for having gained access to my father’s ultrarare FFL photographs. It fills a gap in my understanding of my father’s life during the five years he spent in the Legion in Algeria.

PART I: 

PHOTOS: Foreign Legion Saharan Battery from 1939 to 1942

PART II: 

PHOTOS: Foreign Legion Saharan Battery from 1939 to 1942 – II. Part

POST 82: DR. OTTO BRUCK IN THE BRITISH ARMY

 

Figure 1. My father, Dr. Otto Bruck, in his British Army uniform in Sétif, Algeria in the Summer of 1944

 

Note: In this post, I discuss the limited amount I know about my father’s 2 years and 224 days in the British Army as a member of the 338th Royal Pioneer Corps. (Figure 1) Like his five-years in the French Foreign Legion, his tour of duty in the British Army began in Algeria, though it ended in Italy. I also talk about his reason for enlisting in the English Army, and, as in previous posts, provide some historical context.

Related Posts:

Post 79: Dr. Otto Bruck’s Path to the French Foreign Legion

Post 80: Dr. Otto Bruck in the French Foreign Legion

Post 81: Photo Essay of Dr. Otto Bruck’s Time in the French Foreign Legion

Between January 30, 1933 and May 8, 1945, there were two main laws pertaining to the loss of German citizenship. This not only affected Jews, but also Communists, Socialists, members of the Social Democratic party, conscientious objectors, Jehovah’s Witnesses, and Quakers. The “Law on the Revocation of Naturalizations and the Deprivation of the German Citizenship” of July 14, 1933, deprived some persons of their German citizenship individually. Their names were listed in the “Reichsgesetzblatt” (Reich Law Gazette), and with publication of the particular “Reichsgesetzblatt” they lost their German citizenship.

The main group of former German citizens, however, lost their citizenship with the “Eleventh Decree to the Law on the Citizenship of the Reich” of November 25, 1941. This decree stripped Jews of their remaining rights, and stipulated that Jews living outside Germany were no longer German citizens. Deprived of their citizenship and their passports nullified, this effectively stranded in place Jews who had left Germany in the years before or shortly after the beginning of WWII.

As a related aside, ancestry.com has a searchable database entitled “Germany, Index of Jews Whose German Nationality was Annulled by Nazi Regime, 1935-1944,” where the names of individuals whose nationality was rescinded can be entered.

I previously explained to readers that my father left Germany in March 1938 and enlisted in the French Foreign Legion in November 1938. Enlistment in the Legion did not convey French citizenship unless one served at least three tours of duty or was seriously wounded during a military operation. Thus, the Nazi decree of November 25, 1941 stripping Jews living outside Germany of their citizenship effectively rendered Jews, including my father, “stateless.” While he was still a member of the Legion in November 1941 with two additional years of service to fulfill, my father no doubt began to consider what options might be available when his tour of duty ended.

Figure 2. My father’s demobilization document from the French Foreign Legion

 

My father’s five-year enlistment in the Legion ended on the 13th of November 1943 when he was demobilized in Colomb-Béchar, Algeria (Figure 2); two days later, on the 15th of November 1943, he joined the British Pioneer Corps in Algers, Algeria, and reported to Sétif, in northeastern Algeria. (Figure 3) The Pioneer Corps was apparently the only British military unit in which “enemy aliens” could serve (Figure 4); an enemy alien is a citizen of one country living in another country with which it is at war and technically viewed as suspect as a result. According to what my father told me, he switched to the English Army in the hope that after WWII was over, he would be admitted to England and could resume his dental career there. While my father never fully explained the circumstances, it seems a fellow soldier stole his identity and committed a misdeed for which my father was blamed making his entry into England impossible.

 

Figure 3. Political map of Algeria with Colomb-Béchar and Sétif, Algeria circled; Béchar is where my father was demobilized from the French Foreign Legion, and Sétif is where he was garrisoned with the English Army

 

Figure 4. English Army Recruitment Poster calling on men 30 to 50 years of age to join the Pioneer Corps

 

Thousands of German nationals joined the Pioneer Corps to assist Allied war efforts and the liberation of their home country. (Figure 5-6) Typically, they were Jews and political dissidents who’d fled. Unlike the French Foreign Legion, German refugees were not given anonymous names. Obviously, serving as a German national in the British forces was especially dangerous because, in case they were captured, there was a high probability of being executed, either for being a traitor or for being Jewish. Nonetheless, the number of German-born Jews joining the British forces was exceptionally high; by the end of the war, one in seven Jewish refugees from Germany had joined the British forces. Their knowledge of the German language and customs proved particularly useful; many served in the administration of the British occupation army in Germany and Austria following the war.

 

Figure 5. My father on leave from the English Army visiting one of his French Foreign Legion buddies in Ouargla on July 15, 1944
Figure 6. My father in his British Army uniform in Sétif in August 1944

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Figure 7a. Side 1 of my dad’s “Certificate of Demobilization” from the English Army dated June 30, 1946, translated into French
Figure 7a. Side 2 of my dad’s “Certificate of Demobilization” from the English Army dated June 30, 1946, translated into French

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Figure 8. My father’s English Army “Star of Italy” and ribbon (consisting of five vertical stripes of equal width, one in red at either edge and one in green at the center, with two intervening stripes in white)

Among my father’s surviving papers is his “Certificate of Demobilization” (Figures 7a-b) from the English Army, translated into French, as my father was then living and working illegally as a dentist in Nice, France. The certificate indicates my father served in North Africa and Italy from the 19th of November 1943 until the 5th of May 1946, obviously as part of the occupation army after the war ended. He was awarded the Star of Italy (Figure 8) for his involvement in the military campaign there. At the time of his demobilization on the 30th of June 1946, either in Naples or Rome, my father was a private receiving the pay of a corporal. My father served a combined 2 years 224 days in the English Army. (Figures 9a-b, 10) Unlike with the French Foreign Legion, I was unsuccessful obtaining a copy of my father’s military dossier from the United Kingdom’s “Army Personnel Centre” in Glasgow. This is conjecture on my part, but possibly because my father enlisted in Algeria rather than the United Kingdom, the military dossiers for enlistees in North Africa are archived elsewhere. My primary interest in retrieving this file would be obtaining clues on why my father was unable to immigrate to England, an event that would have been transformative.

 

Figure 9a. Frontside of my father’s “War Medal 1939-45” and ribbon (consisting of a narrow central red stripe with a narrow white stripe on either edge, along with a broad red stripe at either edge with two intervening stripes in blue)
Figure 9b. Backside of my father’s “War Medal 1939-45” and ribbon

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Figure 10. My father and his English Army buddies in Rome, Italy in September 1945 with St. Peter’s Basilica in the background

 

 

 

POST 81: PHOTO ESSAY OF DR. OTTO BRUCK’S TIME IN THE FRENCH FOREIGN LEGION

Note: In this post, I talk briefly about the origins of the French Foreign Legion’s romanticized reputation and its depiction in popular culture, followed by a presentation of a few of my father’s photos showing his time in the Legion in Algeria between November 1938 and November 1943.

Related Posts:

Post 79: Dr. Otto Bruck’s Path to the French Foreign Legion

Post 80: Dr. Otto Bruck in the French Foreign Legion

 

Figure 1. Cover page of the book “Memento du Soldat de la Légion Etrangère” my father was given upon his enlistment in Paris on November 9, 1938

 

My father, Dr. Otto Bruck, signed up for the French Foreign Legion on the 9th of November 1938 in Paris (Figure 1), and reported for duty in Sidi Bel Abbès, Algeria (Figure 2) on the 18th of November 1938. As discussed in the previous post, as a Jewish refugee in the lead-up to WWII without a visa to a safe haven, his options were limited, so he heeded the advice of one of his first cousins and enlisted in the Legion.

 

Figure 2. Political map of Algeria with the names of towns and cities mentioned in the text and photos circled

 

Before embarking on a presentation of some of my father’s visual images of his time in la Légion, I want to tell readers a little more about the Legion’s history to supplement what I discussed in the previous post, focusing primarily on the origins of the Legion’s romanticized reputation and its depiction in popular culture. There is no intent on my part to be comprehensive, so interested readers are encouraged to research the Legion’s history to obtain a more broad-based understanding.

The Legion was established on March 9, 1831 by King Louis-Philippe as a military unit to support France’s conquest of Algeria, which they had invaded the previous year. The Legion’s debut was inauspicious because of mismanagement in Algeria, nationally homogeneous battalions, resistance to military discipline among recruits, widespread desertion, and an unqualified officer corps. In 1835, the Legion was transferred into Spanish service to help Queen Regent María Cristina de Borbón put down a Carlist rebellion, though was resurrected in December 1835 by Louis-Philippe once he realized the continuing need for legionnaires in Algeria. The latter became known as the nouvelle légion (“new legion”), which staked out a reputation for military valor during the 1837 storming of Constantine, Algeria.

At the time, legionnaires were often used for labor rather than combat, a situation which began to change only with the arrival in 1840 of Thomas-Robert Bugeaud as commander in chief in Algeria. Recognizing the vulnerability of static legionnaire units in isolated locations that could be overwhelmed by Algerian resisters, Bugeaud instituted a counterinsurgency strategy that took the battle to the enemy and demanded incessant marching; the campaigns, while grueling, improved the Legion’s morale and performance. The Legion’s officers also then began to understand “. . .that leadership of foreign mercenaries requires finesse, appeals to the men’s sense of honor, and nonjudgmental, non-xenophobic attitudes.” Around this time, the Legion began to be more accepted as a full-fledged branch of the French army. The prior practice of nationally homogeneous military units was abandoned, discipline improved, and an ameliorated esprit de corps began to develop.

While historically the Legion had many cutthroats, political refugees, outlaws and others who required strict, often merciless, discipline, by the mid-19th century the Legion had established its reputation as a formidable fighting unit. French imperial expansion that took place between 1871 and 1914 corresponded with the Legion’s “golden age.” The corps, which numbered about 10,000 legionnaires at the time, participated in campaigns in southeastern Algeria and in the conquest of Morocco. The campaigns were then spear-headed by mule-mounted units, the old Montées, as I explained to readers in the previous post. These units became a permanent fixture of Legion operations in North Africa into the 1930’s. The “Batterie Saharienne Portée de Légion,” of which my father was a member, originated as a mule-mounted unit, though by the time he joined it was a motorized infantry company.

The Legion’s reputation as a band of romantic misfits began to capture the public’s imagination during the Legion’s golden age, augmented by what is referred to as the anonymat, the requirement to enlist under an assumed name. This anonymity allowed legionnaires to invent fabulist pasts, unconstrained by reality. What also appealed to many recruits was the possibility of starting life anew with a clean slate, in an environment of macho hardships and challenges.

Readers will recall from my previous post that the Legion had always had a large complement of Germans in its rank. Ironically, German propaganda contributed to the allure of the Legion by depicting it as a band of criminals commanded by sadistic NCOs which, counter-intuitively, seduced the naïve and innocent. Literary works, such as Ouida’s Under Two Flags (1867) and Percival Christopher Wren’s well-known Beau Geste (1924), further kindled the public’s idealized view of the Legion.

By 1933 the Legion numbered more than 30,000 soldiers that were based in Sidi Bel Abbès under the oversight of an inspector general. The Legion’s first inspector general was Paul Rollet who was responsible for creating many of the Legion’s current traditions. Among other things, he sought to secure the Legion’s place in the public’s imagination by reviving the uniform legionnaires had worn during the 19th century consisting of white uniforms and white kepis, and commissioning a glamorized history of the legion, Le Livre d’or de la Légion étrangère (“The Golden Book of the Foreign Legion”); he even had artistic battle scenes painted showing legionnaires in white kepis to reinforce his belief that they were members of an elite and exclusive military unit.

Rollet’s efforts were partly intended to counter what he perceived as an orchestrated attempt to vilify the Legion and thinly veiled attacks on France. Hollywood productions of novels about the Legion, including Under Two Flags (1936) and Beau Geste (1939), as well as the French film Le Grand Jeu (1934; “The Full Deck”) were also responsible for promoting the romanticism, adventure, and the opportunity for atonement through hardship; these possibilities were at the heart of the Legion’s appeal.

In the case of my father, the Legion offered a much simpler option, a lifeline. Still, there is a paradoxical intersection between the draw the Legion’s idealized view in popular culture may have had upon my father and the name he assumed upon his arrival in America in 1948, “Gary Otto Brook.” Recently, I asked my still-living mother why he adopted the name “Gary,” and she thought it was because he liked the actor Gary Cooper. This seems like a reasonable proposition, and the fact that Gary Cooper was one of the featured actors in Beau Geste, the 1939 movie about the French Foreign Legion, is not lost on me and does not seem coincidental.

With this rather lengthy prologue, let me turn now to a presentation and brief discussion of a few of my father’s photos of his time in the Legion.

 

Figure 3. Camel from a méhariste camel company (Compagnies Méharistes Sahariennes) France created as part of the Armée d’Afrique in the Sahara in 1902. Méhariste is a French word that roughly translates to camel cavalry

 

Figure 4. My barely visible father, marked by the “X,” marching with his company in Ouargla, Algeria on Bastille Day, July 14, 1939

 

Figure 5. General Maxime Weygand conducting a troop review of French Foreign Legion soldiers on Bastille Day, July 14, 1939, in Ouargla, Algeria

Maxime Weygand (Figure 5) was a French military commander in World War I and World War II. Weygand initially fought against the Germans during the invasion of France in 1940, but then signed the armistice with and partially collaborated with the Germans as part of the Vichy France regime before being arrested by the Germans for not fully collaborating with them.

 

 

 

 

 

Figure 6. Butcher at the market in Ouargla, Algeria, March 1941

 

Figure 7. Indigenous Algerian man
Figure 8. Palm grove in Ouargla, Algeria

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Figure 9. Blindfolded donkey drawing water from a well

 

Figure 10. My father playing cards with two compatriots. Circled is my father’s cigarette case, given to him by his own father, and passed down to me
Figure 11. The cigarette case depicted in Figure 10

 

 

 

 

 

 

Figure 12. The dormitory of the “Batterie Saharienne Portée de Légion,” of which my father was a member, in Ouargla, 1942
Figure 13. My father at a bar in Ouargla, Algeria, summer 1942

 

 

 

 

 

 

Figure 14. Two convoy trucks in Amguid, Algeria

 

Figure 15a. Truck accident in Djebel Djerrine, located between In-Salah and Amguid
Figure 15b. Truck accident in Djebel Djerrine, located between In-Salah and Amguid

 

 

 

 

 

 

Figure 16. Legionnaires gathered for a group photo after a successful gazelle hunt

 

 

Figure 17. Indigenous Algerian man from Ouargla
Figure 18. Legionnaire in Fort Miribel, located between In-Salah and El Goléa

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Figure 19. Two members of the Italian Armistice Commission in Ouargla

The Commissione Italiana d’Armistizio con la Francia (“Italian Armistice Commission with France”) or CIAF (Figure 19) was a temporary civil and military body charged with implementing the Franco-Italian armistice of 24th June 1940 and coordinating it with the Franco-German armistice of 22nd June. It had broad authority over the military, economic, diplomatic and financial relations between France and Italy until the Italo-German occupation of France on the 11th November 1942. It liaised with the German Armistice Commission, which I discussed in Post 80, which likely accounts for their presence in Ouargla, Algeria.

 

Figure 20. Constantine, Algeria in December 1941

 

Figure 21. My father’s French Foreign Legion “Certificat de Bonne Conduite” (Certificate of Good Conduct), dated the 12th of August 1944, issued nine months after his deployment in the Legion ended

 

 

 

 

 

 

POST 80: DR. OTTO BRUCK IN THE FRENCH FOREIGN LEGION

Note: In this post, I discuss the five years my father was deployed in the French Foreign Legion in Algeria between November 1938 and November 1943. This installment provides an opportunity to discuss some of the Legion’s history, explore the “conflicted” role the Legion played during WWII and, by extension, explain how my father was able to travel from North Africa to France in 1941 during the war, seemingly across “enemy” lines.

Related Posts:

Post 79: Dr. Otto Bruck’s Path to the French Foreign Legion

 

 

Figure 1. My father Otto Bruck on leave in Constantine, Algeria, December 1941, attired in his French Foreign Legion uniform

 

 

My father voluntarily enlisted in la Légion étrangère, the French Foreign Legion, in Paris on the 9th of November 1938, for a required five-year stint. The French Foreign Legion is a military service branch of the French Army that was founded in 1831 and was initially stationed only in Algeria, the largest country in Africa. During the 19th Century, the French Foreign Legion was primarily used to protect and expand the French colonial empire throughout the world. It is unique in that it is open to foreign recruits willing to serve in the French Armed Forces; enlistees serve under the command of French Officers. Given the limited options available to people of Jewish extraction in the lead up to WWII, my father heeded the advice of one of his first cousins and decided to enlist in la Légion. (Figure 1)

Sidi Bel Abbès, located in northwestern Algeria less than 50 miles from the Mediterranean, was the headquarters of the Foreign Legion until 1962. Named for the tomb of the marabout (saint) Sīdī Bel ʿAbbāss, it was established as a French military outpost in 1843; from this time on the city was closely associated with the French Foreign Legion. The city was the location of the Legion’s basic training camp and the headquarters of its 1st Foreign Regiment. After Algerian independence in 1962, all French troops and legionnaires were evacuated from Sidi Bel Abbès and transferred to Aubagne, France.

 

Figure 2a. Page 1 of my father’s “Livret Matricule,” military file, in the name of his nom de guerre “Marcel Berger, showing his service date, the 9th of November 1938, and his assignment to the “Dépôt commun des régiments étrangers (D.C.R.E.)” First Foreign Regiment

 

Figure 2b. Page 2 of my father’s “Livret Matricule,” military file, listing the dates to which he was assigned to different companies and Legion units

 

Figure 2c. Page 3 of my father’s “Livret Matricule,” military file, showing the different campaigns in which he participated

 

Figure 2d. Page 4 of my father’s “Livret Matricule,” military file, showing he participated in the Battle of Tunisia from the 19th of February 1943 until the 16th of April 1943

 

As nearly as I can tell from my father’s “Livret Matricule,” military file (Figures 2a-d), he reported to the 1st Foreign Regiment, 1er Régiment étranger (1er RE), to which he’d been assigned in Sidi Bel Abbès on the 18th of November 1938. He was incorporated into the Dépôt commun des régiments étrangers (D.C.R.E.), the Communal Depot of the Foreign Regiments (D.C.R.E.), which was administratively dependent on the 1st Foreign Infantry Regiment. For reasons that will become clearer, I’m uncertain whether upon enlistment my father was originally issued dog tags under his birth name, Otto Bruck, or under his nom de guerre, “Marcel Berger.” Among my father’s remaining personal effects, I have French Foreign Legion D.C.R.E. dog tags under both names. (Figures 3a-b; 4a-4b)

 

Figure 3a. Front side of my father’s French Foreign Legion dog tag under his given name, Otto Bruck, identifying him as a member of the “Dépôt commun des régiments étrangers (D.C.R.E.),” the Communal Depot of the Foreign Regiments
Figure 3b. Back side of my father’s French Foreign Legion dog tag under his given name, Otto Bruck, showing his actual date and place of birth

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Figure 4a. Front side of my father’s French Foreign Legion dog tag under his nom de guerre, Marcel Berger, identifying him as a member of the “Dépôt commun des régiments étrangers (D.C.R.E.),” the Communal Depot of the Foreign Regiments
Figure 4b. Back side of my father’s French Foreign Legion dog tag under his nom de guerre, Marcel Berger, with his fictitious date and place of birth

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

According to the history of the 1st Foreign Regiment, the Dépôt commun des régiments étrangers (D.C.R.E.), the Communal Depot of the Foreign Regiments, was created on the 1st of October 1933 in Sidi Bel Abbès. The Depot was under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel Azan, whom, interestingly, my father once photographed. (Figure 5) According to my father’s military dossier, upon his arrival in Algeria, he was initially assigned to the D.C.R.E.’s Compagnie de Passage No. 3, a logistics operation company, on the 19th of November 1938; then, to the D.C.R.E.’s Compagnie d’Instruction No. 2, a training company, on the 4th of December 1938; and, subsequently, to the D.C.R.E.’s Compagnie de Passage No. 1, a different logistics operation company, on the 2nd of April 1939.

 

Figure 5. Lieutenant-Colonel Azan, far-right, commander of the Dépôt commun des régiments étrangers (D.C.R.E.), the Communal Depot of the Foreign Regiments, in Ouargla, Algeria

 

A word about the role of a “Compagnie de Passage.” This group seemingly provided logistical support for soldiers in those rare moments of relaxation during the war related to housing, library services, general information, reading or writing rooms, barber shops, sports venues, cinemas, etc. It was also used to perform banking operations for the soldiers, such as withdrawing money to pay for their purchases. My father’s specific job(s) during these assignments is unknown to me.

On the 1st of October 1939, my father was transferred to the Compagnie Automobile de Transport du Territoire des Oasis (C.A.T.T.O.), the Saharan transport unit of the Legion. C.A.T.T.O. was merged into the Batterie Saharienne Portée de Légion (B.S.P.L.), Saharan Battery Legion Range, on the 29th of June 1939, the date the B.S.P.L. was created in Ouargla, Algeria; my father was assigned to the 1st B.S.P.L. on the 1st of November 1940 (Figure 6), which may correspond with his relocation to Ouargla from Sidi Bel Abbès, though I’m uncertain when this took place.

 

Figure 6. Insignia of the Batterie Saharienne Portée de Légion (B.S.P.L.), Saharan Battery Legion Range, to which my father was assigned on the 1st of November 1940

 

A word about the French Military term “Portée” as in “Batterie Saharienne Portée de Légion.” Technically, the term translates into English as “mobile,” although that’s inaccurate; the old Montées, the mule-mounted units from which the Portees originated, were also considered highly mobile. Therefore, the term Portée is supposed to mean “motorized” to distinguish the modern vehicle-mounted motorized infantry companies from the old Montées, the mule-mounted ones. (see “French Legion Mounted Companies“)

So far, I’ve related dry details on the military units to which my father was assigned, their presumed function, and when these assignments took place. Let me turn now to the Legion’s history during WWII for context. Initially, I was narrowly focused on trying to specifically understand how my father was able to travel from Algeria to mainland France for a two to three month stay between September and November 1941 to visit friends and family living there. (Figures 7-8) This visit in the middle of the war seemingly involved travel across “enemy” lines, and on the face of it was baffling. In looking into this, I stumbled upon a fascinating article by Edward L. Bimberg, entitled “World War II: A Tale of the French Foreign Legion,” that originally appeared in the September 1997 issue of “World War II” magazine. Below I summarize some of this author’s findings.

 

Figure 7. Photo of my father’s sister Susanne Müller née Bruck in November 1941 in Fayence, France, taken during my dad’s leave from the French Foreign Legion while stationed in Algeria

 

 

Figure 8. Photo of my father’s first cousin Jeanne “Hansi” Goff née Löwenstein in Monte Carlo, Monaco in October 1941, taken during my dad’s leave from the French Foreign Legion while stationed in Algeria

 

According to Mr. Bimberg, the Legion had always had a large complement of Germans in its rank. In the late 1930’s, intelligence officers at the headquarters of the French Foreign Legion in Sidi Bel Abbès, however, were puzzled by an even greater number of Germans pouring in, despite the Nazis’ widespread campaign to discourage them from enlisting. In this period, the German press was violently attacking the Legion, and the Nazi government demanded that recruiting be stopped. Still the Germans kept coming until half the privates and 80 percent of the non-commissioned officers in the legion were German. Eventually, it became clear that this influx had been orchestrated by German intelligence, the Abwehr. The goal was to destroy the Legion from within, which the German legionnaires nearly succeeded in doing.

According to my father, the Legion attracted its share of unsavory types, such as ex-convicts, criminals, murderers, pederasts, etc. More importantly, however, the French Foreign Legion had always attracted the dispossessed, such as Spanish Republicans who’d fought on the losing side of the Spanish Civil War (1936-1939); Jews, such as my father, escaping Nazi persecution; then, later Czechs and Poles who’d fled as the German Army began its march across Europe. Obviously, these refugees did not mix well with the new Germans in the Legion; the German non-commissioned officers terrorized the non-Germans resulting in frequent fights and courts-martial. The French officers could not trust their own non-commissioned officers, and morale in the Legion plummeted, almost to the point of disbanding the entire corps.

WWII is generally said to have begun with the German invasion of Poland on the 1st of September 1939, and the subsequent declarations of war on Germany by France and the United Kingdom. With the declaration of war, the situation in France became critical, but the questionable loyalty of the Germans in the Legion made shipping them to fight in Europe too risky. Instead, four more foreign regiments were raised in France and trained by veteran Legion officers from North Africa. These newly created regiments garrisoned the Maginot Line, the line of concrete fortifications, obstacles, and weapon installations built by France in the 1930s to deter invasion by Germany. These legionnaires remained inactive during the so-called “phony war,” the period of comparative inaction at the beginning of World War II between the German invasion of Poland (September 1939) and that of Norway (April 1940).

Despite the general reluctance of sending entire Legion units to France, the French authorities decided something had to be done with the loyal elements of the Legion marking time in North Africa but anxious to fight. So, in early 1940, volunteers were called for, and two battalions of 1,000 men assembled, one in Fez, Morocco, and the other in Sidi Bel Abbès, Algeria; the volunteers were carefully vetted. The remaining German legionnaires of unquestioned loyalty were given non-German names and false identity papers to protect them in case they were captured by the Germans. Possibly, my father acquired his alias, Marcel Berger, at this time.

The two battalions were joined into the 13th Demi-Brigade (13e Demi-Brigade de la Légion Étrangère) and put under the command of a Lieutenant-Colonel Magrin-Verneret, a WWI veteran apparently typical of military eccentrics who often turned up in the Foreign Legion. When the 13th Demi-Brigade arrived in France, these desert-trained veterans were surprisingly issued a new type of uniform and skis, trained to fight in the Arctic, and outfitted as mountain troops with heavy parkas, boots, and snow capes. They were initially bound for Finland, but after the capitulation of the Finns to the Russians when the latter were still in league with the Germans, thus before the brigade could be deployed there, the war in Finland ended.

Instead, the 13th Demi-Brigade was shipped to Norway to capture the northern port of Narvik from the Germans to prevent ore shipments from neutral Sweden needed by the Nazi regime. After bitter fighting, the legionnaires captured control of Narvik on the 28th of May 1940. For the next few days, they pursued the retreating Germans through the snow-covered mountains toward the Swedish border; their aim was to capture General Edouard Dietl, who’d led the German garrison at Narvik, and his remaining troops and force them into Swedish internment. Regrettably, when the 13th Demi-Brigade was only 10 miles from the Swedish border, they were ordered to return to France where they were needed in defense of France. The “phony war” was over with the German invasion of the Low Countries a few weeks earlier.

Edward Bimberg picks up the narrative: “The 13th Demi-Brigade returned to France from Norway, sailing into the harbor at Brest on June 13, almost at the same time the Germans were marching into Paris. Colonel Magrin-Verneret was ordered to form a line as part of a proposed last-ditch Breton Redoubt, but it was no use. The Germans had broken through.

While on a forward reconnaissance mission to determine what could be done to delay the enemy, Magrin-Verneret and some of his officers became separated from the main body of the 13th Demi-Brigade, and when they returned to Brest they could not find any trace of the unit. The reconnaissance party assumed that the main body had been over-run, and the colonel determined that he and his companions should try to get to England, where the British planned to fight on. Every boat seemed to have been taken over by fleeing British and French troops, but the Legion officers finally found a launch that took them to Southampton. Miraculously, most of the 13th Demi-Brigade had already found a way to get there.”

The point of relating the above history to readers is to explain why from this point forward the French Foreign Legion was so sharply divided during WWII. On June 18, 1940, the French General Charles de Gaulle, leader of the new Free French movement, was now also a refugee in England. Magrin-Verneret immediately offered the services of the 13th Demi-Brigade to de Gaulle, and soon they were training at Trentham Park near Stoke-on-Trent.

On June 25, 1940, the Franco-Italian armistice went into effect, which ended the brief Italian invasion of France during WWII. This followed by a few days the Franco-German armistice of June 22, 1940, which divided France into two zones: one under German military occupation and one left nominally under full French sovereignty, referred to as “Vichy France.” These armistice agreements meant war was over for now for the French Army, which was reorganized into the Armistice Army. That’s also why in, November 1940, a major reorganization took place within the Legion. Not coincidentally, as mentioned above, my father was reassigned to the 1st B.S.P.L. on the 1st of November 1940 in Ouargla, Algeria.

With the implementation of the armistice agreements on June 25, 1940, the men of the 13th Demi-Brigade were given a choice, fight on with de Gaulle, or return to North Africa, which was now under the control of Marshal Henri Philippe Petain’s newly formed Vichy government. The 1st Battalion, strongly influenced by Captain Dimitri Amilakvari, a 16-year Legion veteran who’d fought valiantly to capture a key hill in the battle of Narvik, elected to stay with de Gaulle. The 2nd Battalion went back to Morocco and was disbanded.

Edward Bimberg resumes the story: “The French Foreign Legion, like the rest of the French empire, was now sharply divided. The 13th Demi-Brigade had given its allegiance to the Free French, while the rest of the Legion, scattered throughout North Africa, Syria and Indochina, remained under the thumb of the Vichy government, which meant being under the sharp watch of the German Armistice Commission.

The Germans demanded that the men that had been planted in the Legion be returned to the Reich, and the Legion was not sorry to see them go. But the Commission had other, not so welcome demands. They had lists of refugee Jews, Germans, Poles, Czechs, Italians, and others they wanted back, to send to concentration camps.

There were many men in the French army in North Africa, particularly in the Legion, who had no sympathy for the Vichy government and hated the Germans. Besides, the Legion had a reputation for taking care of its own. Its intelligence system usually discovered the Armistice Commission’s visits well in advance and knew the names of the legionnaires on the lists. The wanted legionnaires were given new names, new papers and new identity discs. When the Germans came too close, the refugees would be transferred to far-off Saharan outposts where the Commission seldom took the trouble to visit.”

Edward Bimberg’s story provides some context about my father’s time in the French Foreign Legion. Obviously, after the Franco-German armistice went into effect in June 1940, Algeria, where my father was stationed, was under the control of the Vichy government. According to Bimberg, while many of the Legion’s officers and men in North Africa would have liked to join de Gaulle’s forces, they were hesitant to desert; also, the surrounding mountains and desert prevented them from reaching the Free French in large numbers, so they were forced to bide their time. Still, because the Legion looked after their own, they probably gave my father a new identity after the establishment of the German Armistice Commission. Some of my father’s pictures, which I will feature in my next Blog post, were taken in remote outposts in the Saharan desert, places I presume he and fellow at-risk legionnaires were sent to put them outside the Commission’s reach. My father’s two to three-month trip to mainland France between September and November 1941 was clearly possible because the Legion units in North Africa were under the control of the Vichy government, so technically his travel did not involve crossing enemy lines. Additionally, his lengthy stay may have been orchestrated to distance him from planned visits by the German Armistice Commission.

The 13th Demi-Brigade, which rallied to Charles de Gaulle’s Free French forces following France’s capitulation to Germany in June 1940, was incorporated into the British Eighth Army as the 1st Free French Legion. It spearheaded the Gaullist conquest of French colonies in sub-Saharan Africa and Syria, where it actually fought against Legion units loyal to the collaborationist Vichy government. The Allied invasion of French North Africa in November 1942 reunited the fractured branches of the Legion. Still, political rancor was slow to dissipate on account of confrontation between the opposing units in Syria. The feuding between the pro-Gaullist and ex-Vichy legion units continued in Italy, where the Legion participated in the breakthrough at Monte Cassino in 1944. By this time, my father was no longer a member of the French Foreign Legion, having by then enlisted in the British Army, a subject of a future Blog installment.

The reuniting of the legion units in November 1942 explains why my father was able to fight against the Germans in the Battle of Tunisia between February and April 1943, likely the only combat action he ever saw. (Figure 9)

 

Figure 9. My father preparing for the Battle of Tunisia in January 1943 in Touggourt, Algeria

 

Stumbling upon Mr. Bimberg’s article on the history of the French Foreign Legion during WWII was instrumental in helping me understand why my father was in certain places during his five years in the Legion. The story also explains why the Legion’s morale was so low: “The Vichy Legion in North Africa was not only constantly harassed by the German Armistice Commission but was short of weapons, gasoline and sometimes even food and tobacco. Legion strength fell to less than 10,000 men, and the German authorities continually urged the Vichy authorities to disband it altogether. Morale was at rock bottom, and the rate of desertions and suicides was rising.” Given the Legion’s tenuous position, I can imagine the situation for Jewish men like my father must have been nerve-wracking, even with French aliases.

The following post will be a photo essay of images from my father’s years in the French Foreign Legion.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Bimberg, Edward L. “World War II: A Tale of the French Foreign Legion.” World War II, September 1997.