About a year after I came along, my parents moved to a neighborhood just north of Vincennes called Montreuil and still just outside the Paris city line. I assume my presence made for a crowded environment, and additional space was needed. I must mention, however, that by the time we moved, my parents had lived in Vincennes for about nine years, during which my mother had developed strong relationships with many of the local merchants. This saved my life.

It was an idyllic time for our family. My siblings went to the local elementary school, and I went to a kindergarten. My father had a lot of customers for watch repair. It should be pointed out that watches were basically the only way that people could know what time it was, other than the radio, and it was necessary to know the time to keep appointments of any kind, like going to work. My mother cooked and sewed, as was the custom then. She was probably the one among us who had the hardest job.

I was separated from my parents when I was five years old and never reunited. The only memory I have, which my brother confirmed as true, is playing with rubber toy soldiers in a bathtub. Perhaps this joyous and playful scene is something that I’ve been looking to reproduce all my life. But the winds of war were already swirling, and real soldiers were preparing for war.