Archives Jean Painlevé. Les Documents Cinématographiques : Articles

A quartier-maître (seaman) accused of sabotaging an aircraft carrier: that seemed a bit of an exaggeration to me on the face of it, especially given what we know about the various means of police provocation. It had to be the case that this seaman was being portrayed as significant in an attempt to bring him down. It was only on my return to France in May 1950 that I read further details. Henri Martin had distributed pamphlets against the war in Indochina. This is not a war (it would have had to be passed by Parliament), it is a “police operation”… Such pamphlets would normally have led to a penalty of a month’s imprisonment from the naval tribunal with no further mention being made of it. Therefore there had to be more to it, since rather than being trivialised, it was blown out of proportion, “demoralisation of the army” was spoken of, and later it even turned out that an German ex-naval agitator had been used for the aircraft carrier incident – a provocation which ended unsuccessfully.

However, when we read the letters written by Henri Martin to his family over the two years prior to his return to France, we can better understand how his personality irritated those in power and their seconds in command: Henri Martin was not a rebel, and played neither the hero not the persecuted victim; he was clear-sighted and he could not be bought. Because he exposed himself to the cowardice of others, he was not to be ignored. For he represented a real danger, this man who alone, amongst rogues or men who passively carry out orders (at best!), developed his own general truth, and stuck to it without fail … Completely without fail, that was the danger. Nor did he fail in his duties as a serviceman: although he had joined an operation to fight for freedom and not pro-slavery, he represented a fearless and irreproachable fighter.

Something of a maverick, he had to be accused of plotting, when, once back in France, he made public what he had written many times to his family from Indochina. In these letters he broadcast his deepest thoughts, thoughts which, moreover, echoed what was written on a daily basis, uttered, sold in kiosks, and disseminated into the widest variety of contexts and even by members of the Government.

At the end of the day, his feelings, accusations, and fears gave concrete form to the hatred which everyone felt towards this stupid, shameful exploit, for the widest variety of reasons admittedly, but which contribute no less to the unanimous reaction. We hear: “a slur on France”, “stop gathering necessary forces in Africa”, “toll the knell of French business in Asia”, “colonialist enterprise”, “play into the Communists’ hands”, “nations have the right to work for themselves”, “we are paving the way for the Americans”, “disrupt the country’s economy”, “let the rogues of the French Foreign Legion carry out the slaughter”, “suck the blood of our most innocent heroes”, “debilitate army officers”, “fight for a handful of profiteers”, “a pointless war; assets have moved elsewhere”, “has always cost France without any benefits in return”, etc.

He was trained in the Maquis to fight for the Liberation of his country and not to protect shady dealings, or reduce other peoples to slavery; he put himself on the line but was not a professional killer. As such, Henri Martin, on arriving in Indochina, sees the ideals for which he had given up his life crumble away in the most dreadful bloody farce. Given his purity, knowledge, lucidity and courage, he did not have the right to remain silent; his actions were quite simply in keeping with his conscience. Popular feeling, being direct and honest, eventually discovers the constructive path although it is surrounded by carefully maintained deception. Henri Martin saw, constructed, described and foretold history. “Henri Martin, historian”… No, this is not a play on words. I do not mean the mediocre nineteenth-century historian but the man whose letters overflow with warning cries, about the most diverse plans. In what follows, we pluck some extracts from these letters in order to allow the different resonances to emerge, and not to play the facile game of turning decontextualised sentences to our own ends. Each of Martin’s sentences is important for the experience it represents, and deserves appropriate discussion. Note that his first letters, before he came into contact with the situation in Indochina speak only of caramels, fruit juices, a merry Christmas, General Leclerc’s kindly expression, and problems Martin had in the seaplane. From the 28 March 1946, however, writing to his parents from Tourane: “France recognises the Republic of Vietnam. This Republic has its own financial system. We are retaining our bases in Indochina.” Henri Martin explains: “The blow is notable of course for the big bankers who had financial concerns in Indochina.” But they and their accomplices have not lost the north because on 30 June Henri Martin tells us that the buyer’s monopoly on rice has been granted to only two companies (with French directors). “The purchase was made at a price of fifty piastres per quintal in Cochin China. Supplies were blocked. When the death toll from the famine had reached two million, rice was sold at eight hundred piastres per quintal. Nice little profit, isn’t it? The French directors rub their hands, good job done. Do you think the Annamese were fooled? This is perhaps one reason why we are held in such low regard here…” On 24 August: “This time we are not to board the junks to inspect them but rather to sink them without warning. The launches have sunk nine of them around Cape Varella.” And on 1September: “We have sunk the junks: 40 by cannon, 20 by machine gun. Each time two or three tons of rice have sunk to the bottom of the sea… What is this farce? Who is it benefiting? Blocking supplies to raise prices so that the big companies can then make their profits. This is why we patrol every day. The big planters in the Cochin China government pretty much ignore their country and especially the people they claim to represent….” (These organised famines are long-standing and have always benefited the masters of the day and their vassals. Just like epidemics linked to malnutrition and mass loss of life, they gave rise to such dreadful atrocities by French authorities in 1924-25 that the medical inspector Normet, in command of the medical service at Hue, told me at the time that he would rather leave the army…).

However, France is hated and despised for more reasons than this. When Henri Martin notes on 28 March 1946 that in Tourane “in many houses, five flags were flying: American, English, Russian, Chinese and the Vietminh; France’s flag was not to be seen. The inhabitants look at us rather coldly”, this is evidence that the betrayal of Vichy and its men has not “paid”, and that delivering Indochina to the Japanese has simply made France lose face. So some hope to reclaim it through force!... Indeed these are the same men who will do their utmost to achieve this, and Henri Martin had commented on 16 April: “There is just one officer on board from the Forces Françaises Libres. However, the Chevreuil carries the cross of Lorraine. It is not through lack of desire that some of them don’t replace it with Vichy’s Francisque. There is no exclusion of collaborators, none at all, even when I tell you that some petty officers were sergeants in Pétain’s Groupe mobile de réserve… But there are some more important than them. Here, the guys from the Maquis almost have to remain hidden just as they did at the time of the Boche….” Poor Henri Martin! It would not be long before he found out for himself that it was the same in France and that it would be one of Pétain’s men who would condemn him! He comments, on 18 May 1946: “Forty percent of the legionnaires are Germans. We want to colonize with such men. For one man killed they burn eight villages. After that, the inhabitants will be able to respect us.” After a description of looting and massacres, he concludes: “In Indochina, the French army behaves like the Boche did at home. I am totally disgusted to see this…” (But how do the massacres of Oradour-sur-Glane – whose SS perpetrators are in hiding in the USA, if I am not mistaken – compare to the slaughter of tens of thousands of Madagascans in Madagascar! Or the hundreds of napalm bombs that Henri Martin was not aware of in Indochina! That is civilisation on a large scale…). And consider the contrast with Henri Martin’s account of a staff sergeant, a prisoner of the Vietminh, whom a captain arranged to have carried in a sampan to rejoin the French after his recovery. This is an account which ends with the crucifying words of the Vietminh captain to the French staff sergeant: “When you start bringing peace again, don’t be too cruel with our women and children.” In a response on 20 March, Henri Martin writes how, as the engineer on a boat armed with a machine-gun, the officer opened fire on a junk, and so on. “Now that we have killed his child and injured his wife, this Annamese would become a Vietminh, if he was not already. This is how we bring peace.”

Of thirty or so letters, there are eight in which Henri Martin meticulously describes the battles in which he was involved. Whatever his disgust or shame, he did not react; he was always a model sailor from the military point of view. Thus his account is even more dreadful when he writes on 11 October 1946: “To think that all this happened because a group of big landowners wants to hold on to their privileges. They would rather be masters than allies. There is more money to be made this way. And for that reason, French soldiers are killed every day.” On 30 September 1947: “We arrive at dawn, but instead of landing straight away, we wait for the sunrise. This means that the senior officers can watch the sight…” And after the end of the fighting: “Now there are five dead men on our quarterdeck. They are covered with the French flag. There are pools of blood everywhere. Sixteen wounded….” etc. “The High Commissioner is no longer there to see the sight.” Writing to his parents who wanted to “lift his spirits”, he declared: “It’s because I’m telling you my thoughts exactly as they are that you’re saying I’m demoralised. I tell you what happens and give you my impressions of it. That is not why morale is low, but it is a reason for repugnance.” Perhaps he knows that neuroses are brought about by fighting and committing atrocities for a cause one does not wholly believe in. In any case, he explains in another letter why a large number of servicemen believe that they are fighting for France: “They go off to Indochina and, before doing anything, they are caught in an ambush. So they say to themselves: they’re bastards, we’ve done nothing to them and yet they attack us. However, they forget that others before them have sullied France’s name and now it is they who are paying the price.” He concludes on 11 March 1947, from Saigon: “To find out where France’s interests lie, you only have to look at the traitors’ reaction: the Japanese traitors, like the Boche traitors, demand that the struggle be continued. France would be well advised not to listen to these traitors.” This evidence tallies with that of his letter of 24 March: “Those who approved military funding allocations would have done better to use the money to help reconstruct France…” (He did not know that in 1952 the Reconstruction would be permanently shelved and the Indochina war would take priority. “…By continuing the war, we are debilitating the country.” In this case, the country is France.) “We have to settle the war as quickly as possible before it’s too late…” He knows that it is not possible to defeat a people about whom he has commented: “In Bentre, the whole population is Vietminh; even so, we can’t destroy a whole population” or indeed “This is not a band of pirates, it’s a whole community of people who want their freedom…” “…This is all evidence that they do not need our help to run their own country…”

By playing the role of adoptive parents who take advantage of a child on the pretext of protecting it, and soon turn into unbridled sadists, like a weakness which increasingly becomes a strength, the government casts a slur on France and brings on her downfall. France will need all of her best sons to make people forget the shame she has been covering herself in for years. Foremost among these men is Henri Martin. A pardon for his sentence has been rejected although the rapist and killer of a little girl has been reprieved “because his brother fought in Indochina”, and subsequently a young murderer went to seek redemption “on the Indochinese front line”… This is where we have reached by 1 January 1953. The rejection of the pardon, first and foremost a biased endeavour, one which serves to strengthen what it sets out to fight against, coming on top of a political condemnation, will allow future generations to know for certain who was patriotic; the judges who passed the sentence and those who upheld it; or the condemned man for having denounced a sacrilegious, stupid, immoral war operation, one whose very supporters have never been able to justify in social or economical terms.

In accordance with the Navy’s regulations, Henri Martin asked three times for his duties to be terminated: no response. On 14 October 1947, after two years, he landed from the Chevreuil. On 11 November 1947, he arrived in Marseille.

In April 1948, Martin was posted to the fuel testing station at the naval dockyard in Toulon. He proved himself to be an exemplary worker, and was promoted to able seaman, then petty officer, second class, on 1 November 1949.

In the month of July 1949 he started to “write, distribute or organise the distribution of documents, pamphlets and leaflets with the aim of exposing the injustice of the war in Vietnam.”

“Around 8pm on 13 May 1950, during a patrol in the main dockyard, naval police found pamphlets in the Ruelle de la Corderie which had not been there twenty minutes earlier. Having seen three sailors pass in the meantime, they tried to find out who they were. They turned out to be the matelots (ordinary seamen) Benoît, Laffitte and Cossu from the naval shipyard, and they were arrested. Their confessions led to the arrest of their accomplices, the matelots Grimelli, Pech and Bussarat, as well as petty officer Henri Martin… who was singled out by them as the head of the operation, and who admitted having for several months smuggled in and distributed or organised the distribution of… documents, pamphlets and leaflets... with the aim of exposing the injustice of the war in Vietnam.”

We will hear nothing further of his “accomplices”.[2] They probably received only disciplinary punishments. That would be enough to prove that the government did not consider them to be Communists. If they agreed to display or distribute pamphlets, then it was because they had had enough of the war, nothing more. Recall the letter of 30May 1946: “In the mechanics’ base, only two men are not requesting that their duties be terminated… On the deck, fifty percent are demanding their termination.” The terminations were refused, of course: it was their old grudges, their patient weariness, which encouraged the seamen of the dockyard to plaster Toulon’s walls with these posters; they banded together around Martin because he was the only one to translate their rebellion into clear and precise language.

To find out the content of the pamphlets, we can do no better than refer to the Court’s judgement of the charges by the Court of Appeal in Aix-en-Provence.

1. on about 6July 1949 in the naval dockyard at Toulon, smuggled in and displayed around fifty copies of a roneoed pamphlet, entitled “from a group of sailors to the port admiral”, signed, “a group of sailors”, and including the following lines: “… you don’t consider it appropriate that those who have never been to Indochina should learn what is happening there… Our navy has seen and will continue to see… that this unjust war in Vietnam must be stopped…”

2. on about 27 August 1949 in the naval dockyard at Toulon, smuggled in and displayed a number of copies of a pamphlet entitled: “How volunteers are trained for Indochina”, signed “l’Union de la Jeunesse Républicaine de France”, in which we find the following words: “In Fréjus, where the paratroopers are billeted before departure, harassment of the severest sort takes place. Eleven soldiers have already left the army…, the soldiers no longer agree with the despicable war…, not one more man, not one more penny for the despicable war…”

3. on about 23 September 1949 in Toulon, was involved in writing a roneoed pamphlet, entitled: “Sailors, vote for peace”, signed “A group of sailors”, and including the following lines: “We have the opportunity to protest against the war in Vietnam, where many comrades have already fallen… to express your disgust at becoming cannon fodder to safeguard the interests of warmongers…, the people of France with her navy will show that they are not willing to be led to the slaughter.”

4. on the same date and in the same place, smuggled in and displayed or organised the display of several copies of this pamphlet in the naval dockyard at Toulon.

5. in November 1949, in Toulon, supplied the subject matter for a roneoed pamphlet entitled: “Sailors of Toulon, no more men for Indochina”, signed: “A group of sailors”, and including the following lines: “… Enough. We did not enlist to go and die in Indochina to the enormous profit of French and American bankers and rubber merchants, nor to waste our youth in an unjust war waged against a nation which is fighting, as we did between 1940 and 1944 against the Boche, for its freedom and independence… Enough deaths, enough blood, all united together, refuse to leave next December.”

6. on the same date and in the same place, smuggled in and displayed in the naval dockyard at Toulon a number of copies of this pamphlet.

7. on about 9 December 1949, smuggled in and displayed in the naval dockyard at Toulon, around fifty copies of a roneoed pamphlet entitled: “Sailors, soldiers, demand the end of the war in Vietnam”, signed: “A group of sailors”, and including the following lines: “Think of the thousands of young men who will only return in a coffin. Sailors, soldiers, we will not die for the capitalists. We do not want to serve bankers’ interests. We do not want to be accomplices to the SS militia and LVF who slaughter the Vietnamese people. Proclaim our wish to stop the war in Vietnam, by refusing to sail.”

8. in December 1949 and January 1950 in Toulon, smuggled in and displayed in the naval dockyard, and organised to have taken onto the aircraft carrier Dixmude with the intention of displaying them, a number of copies of a roneoed poster entitled: “Enough death, enough blood” ending with the words: “Sailors, refuse to leave.”

9. on about 27 January 1950, in Toulon, supplied the subject matter of a roneoed pamphlet entitled: “Sailors yes, Slaves never” signed “A group of sailors”, and including the following lines: “Discipline has been defied, but justice and logic have triumphed… We take up the tone set by M. Vincent Auriol, president of the Republic, who, in adopting the theories of the most perfect dictator, intends to punish those who proclaim the truth and want the law to be enforced… unless we want to adapt in order better to uphold the law and justice in Vietnam. To them we say No…” “The Ile d’Oléron leaves on Saturday 4 February, fully loaded with this cargo which kills French and Vietnamese children who also want to live in freedom…”

10. between 27-30 January, smuggled in around fifty copies of this pamphlet to the naval dockyard at Toulon and displayed them there or organised for them to be displayed.

11. in January or February 1950, arranged for several copies of a pamphlet to be taken on board the aircraft carrier Dixmude in Toulon with the intention of displaying them. The pamphlet was entitled: “Sailors of Toulon, follow the example of the soldiers in Fréjus and refuse to leave”, was signed “A group of sailors”, and included the following lines: “Following the example of the dockers, railwaymen and workers who are refusing to sail, transport or produce weaponry, and who are demanding the return of expeditionary forces, French sailors, like the Fréjus soldiers who, on 9 January last, refused to sail, will join in the fight against the despicable war, by refusing to leave on 4 February on the Ile-d’Oléron.”

12. on 18 February 1950, gave, to sailors of the crew of the aircraft carrier Dixmude in Toulon, a number of copies of small posters with printed text containing all of the following words with the intention that these posters should be displayed: “21 February, international day of the fight against colonialism…” “Return of the expeditionary forces”. These were signed “Union de la Jeunesse Républicaine de France…”

13. on 5 March 1950, smuggled in and displayed in the naval dockyard at Toulon around fifty copies of a roneoed pamphlet entitled: “Sailors will say no to fascism”, signed: “A group of sailors”, and including the following lines: “We can see more clearly than ever the despicable ploys in the name of which we are being sent to die in Vietnam… You are sacrificing the twenty years of our lives for your millions… True honour for the Republican army can be won by ceasing to sully its reputation in this fight against the freedom of the Vietnamese people…”

14. on 5 March 1950, sent by mail several envelopes addressed to groups of seamen from the aircraft carrier Dixmude, each containing four or five copies of this same pamphlet.

15. on 8 March 1950, in Toulon, wrote a speech, the text of which follows, intended for the striking dockers: “Comrades, dockers, we salute your magnificent fight against the war. From the vanguard of the working classes, you show us the path to victory. We, sons of workers, now in uniform, come to assure you of our solidarity. We will never agree to act as strike breakers to wreck your strike action. We know that your fight is also ours, that you are fighting for our sakes too. We, sailors of the French Navy, are part of the people of France, and we will not betray the working class”, signed “A group of sailors”, and circulated it among the staff of the naval shipyard in Toulon, requesting cash donations and tobacco for the strikers.

16. on 11 March 1950, smuggled into the naval dockyard at Toulon, and gave to sailors, with the intention that they should be displayed, about fifty copies of a roneoed pamphlet entitled: “Faced with the ‘chéquards’, corrupters, corrupt men, French sailors will respond: “Honour and Country””, signed “the Communist Party” and including the following lines: “French security is under threat… National Defence has been betrayed… Demand the end of the war… French sailors will fight to demand the return of expeditionary forces, including the naval forces… They will refuse to use American weaponry…”

1. According to the dates provided by the prosecution, Martin would have begun his propagandist activities about eighteen months after his landing and fourteen months after his posting.

2. From July to January, pamphlets were distributed on a monthly basis. From January to March, the rate quickens: five in the months of January and February. In March, he seems impassioned and distributes pamphlets every three days.

3. Is he the author of the incriminating texts? In most cases, this is not stated by the prosecution. It is indicated, however, that he has supplied the subject matter of a pamphlet (27 January 1950), was involved in writing another (23 September 1949) and wrote the speech to the dockers (8 March 1950).

According to the requirements of the time, the popular press will sometimes paint Henri Martin as the guilty party – and a man whose very virtues and intelligence make him even more of a criminal – and sometimes as a pathetic man who is indoctrinated and manipulated by the Communist Party. In the latter case, they try to suggest that the Communist Party produced the pamphlets elsewhere, perhaps in Paris, and passed them on to Martin who had only to distribute them. For M. Bernard-Derosne, the special correspondent of the Aurore in Toulon, who is quite partial to a good cliché: “The real culprits were not in the room.” He adds, impulsively: “As for this ‘mysterious civilian’, who we have been talking about all day, well! There is not the slightest bit of information against X…, against this stranger whom the whole world knows.”

I will return to the matter of the mysterious civilian later, and we will see who benefits from this subtle evocation of the villainous Fantômas. Actually there is nothing mysterious: Martin never denied that some pamphlets were handed over to him; in particular the one which carries the Party’s signature must have been smuggled in from outside and by a member of the Communist Party. Therefore, it is highly likely that Martin had contacts with one or more civilians. Why does the court not prosecute them? Simply because Martin did not want to give their names!

GOVERNMENT COMMISSIONER: Would you recognise the person who gave you pamphlets to distribute?

Personally, I assume that he similarly received the two documents from “l’Union des Jeunesses Républicaines Françaises”. But if we rely on this to prove that Martin was only carrying out the orders for an organisation whose leaders were in Paris, we are either foolish or devious, because we would be deliberately disregarding the other eight pamphlets (of eleven) which are all signed “A group of sailors”, at least three of which he wrote or helped to write. What these comments suggest is that Martin made a very clear distinction between the pamphlets which came from outside – which he distributed because they expressed opinions he agreed with – and those which were written by the group of sailors around him, with his encouragement. These sailors, as we have seen, are not Communists. Is Martin? That is another question which we will deal with later. In any case, he has certainly been convinced by the Communist Party’s ideology: in the statements which he encouraged, wrote or edited we find the Party’s phraseology. But it is absolutely not necessary to be a Communist to put one’s name to them. Regardless, what the observations prove is that Martin, the author or instigator of at least three manifestos, is not “a subordinate, passive underling”. Indeed not, neither subordinate nor leader, nor in any way merely an underling. He was involved in producing the pamphlets, so he is at the root of the whole operation. He acts on his own initiative. In line with the Party? This is plausible – but we can assume that the connection was a cautious one: admittedly, the J.R.F. are very closely related to the Communist Party. Nevertheless it is only after eight months that a poster implicating the Party appears on the walls of the dockyard. Think what you will: perhaps Henri started his campaign alone, surrounded by sailors whom he gradually brought round to share his views, and, either at this time or some time later, he moved closer to certain political organisations which pursued the same aims; an alternative view is that he had known Communist activists for a long time and, one fine day, decided to begin his campaign, and his political friends, while perhaps helping him, remained reserved about it, waiting before committing themselves, in order to be able to judge the campaign by its results; alternatively still, there could be any other explanation. What all of these hypotheses share is the idea of complete responsibility on the part of the defendant.

Will you say that in my intention to help Martin I am doing him a disservice, that I am ruining his reputation while claiming to be on his side, that his guilt increases with his greater responsibility? That it would be better – for his sake – to depict him as a puppet, with someone else pulling the strings? Perhaps, but right now I am not concerned with judging his actions, but with establishing the facts.

A) “A group of sailors” can see with clarity and is trying to express their certainty to the whole army: soldiers are addressing soldiers or, more accurately, volunteers are addressing volunteers. The notion of commitment is the main drive behind the argument: these “sons of workers” have joined the Army or the Navy of their own free will, for various reasons and to carry out various duties. Are their present activities in accordance with the commitment entered into and undertaken?

B) The French army exists to serve the French people who formed it in their fight against the Nazi oppression. Its sole function is to gain or defend freedom; it can only turn to the service of oppression by changing its character; its soldiers, free as they are, cannot enslave any nation, at least without first being enslaved themselves.

Since the present war serves the interests of international capitalism and harms the interests of the French people, since these “sons of workers” are being killed for financial gain, since the war has the sole aim of maintaining our control over a foreign territory, against the will of its inhabitants, the soldiers of the popular French army should refuse to fight, even despite their commitment made and at the risk of ruining both the army’s honour and their own pride.

C) It is not enough silently to condemn this war within oneself: it must be denounced. That is, those who deplore it are duty-bound to make their condemnation public. But – and here we can detect the Communist influence – practice is the only form of thought, and an opinion can only be manifested through actions: if you object to this war, you must refuse to fight it; what is more, such a refusal is only effective if it actually leads to a result. Sailors should show their solidarity with the striking dockers, help them through donations, refuse to board ship or indeed to use American weaponry; the Fréjus revolts should be seen as examples. Does the pamphlet writer expect to stop the war through such methods? Clearly not: influencing public opinion is what matters, not through words but through actions; by focusing the nation’s attention on the Indochina war we will show what it is really about. The prosecution was not fooled for that matter, and when it criticises Martin for having caused “irreparable damages”, this is directed at the moral repercussions of the propaganda and not just at some old revolt, which did not even happen.

One day in October 1949, three months after the distribution of the first pamphlets, a quartier-maître (seaman) called Liebert, with close-cropped hair, boarded ship at the testing station. He claimed to have just served a twenty-day sentence in prison for “absence from watch duty”: a fairly harsh penalty in order to give him a reputation as a rabble-rouser, but a relatively minor offence in order not to arouse the suspicion of his new comrades. This Alsatian man was careful not to relate how he had, under the Occupation, enlisted in the Kriegsmarine before call-up. It was known that he had served, after the war, in the French navy, but not that he had been involved in a shady affair: in 1946 when the authorities prohibited beer on board the Dixmude, Liebert, who was on board the aircraft carrier, urged the sailors to protest: the demonstrators were landed immediately, but he was not even disturbed.

At the testing station, Liebert met another Alsatian, the quartier-maître Heimburger. The two fellow countrymen had an excellent reason to strike up a friendship: the latter had boarded the Dixmude shortly after the Liebert had left it. There the similarity ended: Heimburger was a worrier, with horrible memories. Recruited by force by the Wehrmacht, he had deserted after countless trials and tribulations which had filled him with hatred for the war. Right at the start of 1950, Heimburger learned of the aircraft carrier’s next assignment and nearly went mad. He was positive that its destination was Indochina. He confided his fears to Liebert who was very understanding; Heimburger, much encouraged by this, told his comrade of a sabotage plan conceived in the grip of terror. On 18 February 1950, he carried out his plan by throwing swarf into the rear bearing of the propeller shaft. The deposit of the swarf was discovered before the ship set sail. However, it was only after the aircraft carrier returned that the inquiry could start. It opened on 20 April; Henri Martin had been in prison for five weeks.

Heimburger confessed to everything he was charged with. The examining officers interrogated him about his comrades: this was routine procedure. Did Heimburger know Henri Martin, for example? Heimburger confessed. Yes, he knew him. And was Martin not also informed about the sabotage plans? Yes, Martin knew about it. Liebert hastened to support this faltering confession with a solid testimony.

LIEBERT: I was present at an interview during which Heimburger disclosed his intentions to Martin.

Another version, given before the court at Toulon: “Henri Martin was present when Heimburger disclosed his intentions to me.”

LIEBERT: I thought he was just boasting, otherwise I would have punched him in the face. Martin was present when the conversation took place. He even suggested asking a civilian for special pellets which would make a good job of the sabotage.

When questioned, Martin claimed to know nothing of the Dixmude affair: Heimburger had never spoken to him about it.

The public prosecutor’s department drew its conclusions: because the petty officer Henri Martin was aware of Heimburger’s plans but did nothing to stop them, petty officer Henri Martin, already charged with “attempting to demoralise the army” was also charged with being an “accessory in a sabotage attempt”.

Finally a transparent case! The press rejoiced: he was caught red-handed so was fair game. The government encouraged it: at the time of the trial it was organising such a “spectacular” set-up that even the Aurore’s correspondent was stupefied.

“The ethics of this outrageous trial (things were manipulated to enhance its magnitude[3])…”

The first task was to sully the reputation of the defendants. It is vital that they should fill people with distaste. The headlines would run:

This was an excellent way of setting the public against them: this Henri Martin, he objected to the Indochina war. Well, look! - he’s a despicable saboteur. It follows that you have to be a saboteur to condemn the war. The Aurore’s correspondent made a good job of it:

“Someone said to me yesterday: “Oh, no, sabotage a ship for the sake of a sailor, we wouldn’t stand for that here in Toulon.” Hence the failure of this appeal to the masses in the whole département.”

To translate: sailors, with a quick temper and a heart of gold, you maybe condemn this war from the bottom of your heart, but you have too much respect for your profession: a ship is sacred. And, whatever the punishment the court reserves for the guilty party, you have already condemned them - to oblivion.

Well that’s the workers. As for consumers, we can expect that they will be very hard on him: most of the time it is they who suffer the consequences of sabotage. To this natural loathing, we would add rhetorical indignation: mature gentlemen, with sharp eyes – those same gentlemen who champion French culture and spelling – put all their energies into bringing two captive youth into disrepute. Last century, before the first trade union organisations appeared, the impossibility of undertaking any shared activity sometimes drove workers to acts of personal terrorism; the press of the time is bursting with platitudes about sabotage: indeed our journalists borrowed from them. Of all criminals, the saboteur is the most dangerous, as he deliberately carries out an act whose consequences he cannot predict; the most cowardly because he contrives death sentences and leaves blind forces to carry them out; the most unforgivable because nothing can justify his treating his colleagues or brothers in arms as enemies. Would Heimburger and Martin genuinely condemn the government’s policy? Come off it! How can we believe in their righteous horror of spilt blood when, to prevent the alleged massacres they start by condemning the six hundred men of the Dixmude to death? Unless cowardly blood is more valuable to them than French blood? But by Jove, the aim is clear; Moscow is pulling the strings because the pamphlet of 11 March carries the signature of the Communist Party. The aim of these two wretched men is to deliver the whole of Asia over to Mao Tse-tung, then, as a direct result, Europe over to Stalin. So are they Communists? Come on now! Very recently, the anonymous author of a pretty contemptible pamphlet calmly wrote that they all belonged to the same cell.

The charge of being an “accessory to sabotage” was, as we will see, hurriedly thrown out by the Court at Toulon. There would therefore have been no reason to mention it if the popular press had abandoned it as easily.

Did Heimburger go back on his confession? Did he accept that he was the only guilty party? This was the headline of the article by the Aurore’s special correspondent:

Rather, M. Bernard-Derosnes informs us that they have different orders to obey, that is all.

On 19 October, the court delivered its verdict. Did it not uphold the accusation of being an “accessory to sabotage”? Never mind: on 20October, the Aurore’s headline on page two was:

If you had been charged with theft and then acquitted, the newspapers would be very careful not to label you a thief: such petty liberties cost dear. But when the defendant is considered to be a Communist, there is no acquittal which will stick: slander is recommended. This is why our reactionary papers calmly continue to burden Martin with a crime which he did not commit. Of course, it is spoken about a little less openly, but it is not for nothing that our era has perfected techniques of innuendo. Consider the little pamphlet which I mentioned a moment ago. The principle on which it is based is that the accused, by definition, must have committed the crime which he is accused of: acquittal and conviction are the two main ways of finding him guilty. As a result, the author takes on the double task of declaring this acquittal partial and denying it any importance. How can he get himself out of this fix?

Quite wonderfully, as you will see. First of all, he mentions quite candidly that Heimburger went back on his first statements. He simply implies that this retraction had been dragged out of him. By whom, the gods? The police? No - keep up - his lawyers. We were familiar with the spontaneous confession squad, this is the torture lawyers. Besides, don’t go thinking that these retractions are at the root of the acquittal. They are of such little importance that they are not even mentioned in explaining the judges’ verdict. You will be tempted to believe, perhaps, that the court approved the acquittal through lack of evidence? But beware, there was too much evidence! If the court hesitated, it was quite simply “in the face of the enormity of the sentence”. Basically, Henri Martin was so criminal that they did not dare to punish him.

During this time, the popular press resorted to other techniques, all of which were excellent. I will mention only one: the “false interrogative report”. In June 1952, having become tangled up in a scandal involving conspiracy and carrier pigeons which covered it with ridicule in the eyes of the whole world, the government became delirious and, in order to save time, carried out searches. Some of these were carried out at Toulon: it was a chance to turn attention to Henri Martin. And the gentlemen of the press asked, on the front page, in bold type: “Will the Henri Martin affair gain new impetus?” Gain new impetus, the bastards! Exactly how? While all the police conspiracies splatted to the ground like cowpats? No, the Henri Martin affair did not gain new impetus and its new developments, if one day it would have any, would not be of a sort to satisfy you.

Regardless, evil had been done; at the cost of a tiny roguish act, of a simple question raised and then left with no response, the feeling was kindled in some of the public that the authorities knew more about it than they were admitting. Last year, in L’Observateur, there was an exchange of letters between a Communist and a Gaullist, on the subject of general politics. The Gaullist was certainly a very respectable man, and maybe even very amenable: he asked, however, very sincerely, why the Communist Party was defending the saboteur Henri Martin’s cause.

The official circles were a party to it: by their omissions, their leaders made it clear that the naval tribunals had some knowledge of this whole affair which was denied to the average citizen. An eminent dignitary made the following surprising comments to me: “Well yes! They’ve been a bit hard on him. But what do you expect? The judges in Brest were morally convinced that the judges in Toulon were wrong and that Martin had been in league with Heimburger. But as we cannot go back on the res judicata and as there was, fortunately, this business with the pamphlets, they slightly inflated the sentence in order to balance their conscience.”

This idea of justice is too unusual and I cannot accept that it was the judges’ notion: I therefore leave the responsibility to my dignitary. Indeed, it is hard to believe that the Brest judges could, after a year, call into question the conclusions of a court based at the very scene of the offence. A moral conviction; what is that but a conviction without evidence? It is ridiculous, in any case, to hear it said by a great figure of the Republic that French courts, in sentencing a defendant for an offence intend to punish him for a crime which they have not been able to prove he committed.

It follows that Henri Martin is a saboteur. If the judges at Toulon found him innocent, we can wave goodbye to respect for the judicial authorities and the army! Rather than take them on their word, it was considered preferable to imply that they had not done their job! In fact, I prefer that: pick that sabotage accusation up, and examine it closely; if, unfortunately, it does not stand up to investigation, we can go ahead and say to the gentlemen of the press: “Whichever of you will dare to continue to support it, either openly or allusively, will be considered a libeller.”

Were they members of the same cell? I very much doubt it. Heimburger was on board the Dixmude: his cell must have been based in the same place as his work. Martin had been working for over a year at the testing station and his must have been based at the dockyard. Suppose, however, that they belonged to the same Communist unit. If the leaders entrusted them with a joint action, could Martin have been unaware of Heimburger’s intentions? And if he knew of them, why did both of them need to play this out in front of Liebert? Could it be that Heimburger’s mission was so secret that even his comrades knew nothing about it? If so, then why did Heimburger think he had to inform Martin of it in the presence of a third party, when they had a hundred opportunities to talk with no witness? And Martin? Why did he not impose silence on him?

It gets worse: how did he dare mention this mysterious civilian who carried “devil’s pills” around in his pocket intentionally for potential saboteurs? Liebert must therefore have inspired their implicit confidence. Was he a member of the Communist Party? Had he written pamphlets? Stuck up posters? Not at all: he knew nothing, poor man; he knew so little about these subversive activities that he even took Heimburger’s confidences for a joke: “I thought he was just boasting: otherwise, I would have punched him in the face.” However, Heimburger’s demeanour must have been eloquent enough since Henri Martin did not mistake his meaning. So here is the suggested scenario: first the charming pair, two compatriots, two affable Alsatians chatting. “So things aren’t going too well, my good man?” “Well no, I’m a bit down. Look, I can’t help it and when I feel this way, I have to carry out a sabotage.” And then Liebert is in fits of laughter: “Sabotage, get away with you!” he says gleefully. “Don’t show off! It doesn’t suit you!” But Henri Martin suddenly jumps up, looks Heimburger in the eyes and, in a solemn voice, a bit pedantically: “I will help you, sailor. I know a civilian who has great pellets. I’ll ask him for some for you.” By the way, what happened to these pellets? Did Heimburger refuse to take them or did the civilian refuse to give him them? History does not say. And then if Heimburger was put in charge of sabotaging the Dixmude by a criminal organisation, why did he need to ask Martin’s civilian for help? Did he not have his own allotted civilian – everyone has their own – and his own pellets? What peculiar activists, even so! The Communists were more serious at the time of the occupation.

And how peculiar Liebert was too! He saw Martin looking at Heimburger in a particular way, he heard him speak to him in a certain tone, and he carried on slapping his thighs and thinking his friends were jokers. To open his eyes to it took nothing less than the discovery of sabotage and Heimburger’s arrest. So is he a fool? Not at all: on the contrary, he is described as crafty. But seriously, either Liebert informed on his friends before they were arrested, in which case he is a squealer and the whole business is likely to be a fix, or he informed on them afterwards, as people would like us to believe. In that case his place is beside them, in the dock. Well, suppose that Martin admits to having been witness to Heimburger’s confidences, suppose that he tells us, to excuse the fact that he did not inform on him: “I thought he was just boasting!” What a roar of laughter there would be. The judges themselves would say to the defendant: “Is that your defence? If you don’t change it, you’re ruined.” But Liebert did not even have a defence: he did not need one because he was the accuser. Draw your own conclusions.

So, we have a propagandist and a saboteur, so to speak: two heads under the same hat. They are part of the same cell, and obey orders from the same leaders. At this point, the real setback: they are arrested. And what do you think the saboteur does? He immediately informs on the propagandist. Don’t you think that smells a bit fishy?

Of course, you will say to me that the police gave him a thrashing. I want to believe it. Only the argument cuts both ways: they might be telling the truth, under the threat; or they might be lying. And then, obviously, the Communists must have really changed. Do you remember the ones the Germans tortured, who lay down and died without a word of objection? Of course, the weakness of an individual does not reflect on the whole group. Still, the Party should have been suspicious of them. Consider how gullible Heimburger is: he only has to meet a compatriot for him to start to chatter. And he is so impulsive: desertion, sabotage, confession and retraction. Do you think that well-informed activists would have selected him for a mission of trust? But look at him! Look at him! He provides the sought after evidence himself through his words and his actions. What a tumult of contradictory ideas and conflicting values must be in his head, for the same man to say to the judges: “I regret what I did”, and to Martin’s father: “I am proud to have served my sentence alongside a man like your son”, for the same man to be able to strike his comrades by his obsessive horror of war, and to move the military judges with the clear sincerity of his remorse! We are all like that, you might say, constantly buffeted between one set of morals and another? Yes, unless we are a member of an authoritarian organisation which moulds our characters and our minds through strict discipline. Throughout this story, Heimburger is alone, without a leader and without principles: he struggles in the night; the lowliest activist has more coherent ideas and firmer behaviour. Oh! And then, while I think of it, remember that he personally declared to the Brest court that he had never been a member of the Communist Party: “I do not share all of Henri Martin’s views. His party goes too far. I just hate war.”[4] Why didn’t I say that at the start? Because that would have convinced nobody. We have been so completely corrupted today that we no longer consider any statement to be sincere, unless it proves the man who made it to be guilty.

Then, after all, since the Communist Party is supposed to have inspired these saboteurs, it might not perhaps be a bad idea to consider its views on sabotage. The anti-Communist, naturally, has a ready response: “Sabotage? Well, the Communist Party totally approves of it. Because it’s a crime, you see!” An insightful argument: if we accept that Communism represents Evil and the French army represents Good, it is easy to understand that one should try to destroy the other by all possible means. Unfortunately, it turns out that the Party has never been prosecuted for murder, that accusations of spying which were even yesterday proclaimed against it, are now whispered under one’s breath, and, finally, it turns out that in the official report presented to the National Assembly on the subject of the October arrests and the demands that parliamentary privilege be lifted, page 78 reads:

“Incitement to sabotage: incitement to physical sabotage is only present if there is incitement to carry out a specific action. The Communist Party does not practise such incitement: concrete action should be raised to such a level as to make the people act spontaneously.” It could not be better put: for the Communists, it is mass action which counts. Acts of sabotage, terrorist attacks, and so on, are simple manifestations of anarchy which only serve to infuriate the population. Our government’s ingenuousness brings a faint smile to the lips of the anti-Communist: “The Communist Party condemns sabotage? So what? Do you still believe that its actions match its words?” Leave him to his reasoned lunacy: he hates Communists so much that he can no longer see them; according to him they don’t say what they are doing, don’t do what they are saying, don’t say what they are saying and don’t do what they are doing: in short, they are not what they are. The anti-Communist is incapable of foreseeing anything except for what he considers to be the worst scenario, he refuses to try to understand in order better to condemn, and he distrusts his enemies so much that he removes his means of fighting them and will end up putting himself in their hands. I am addressing their sound minds, and I challenge them to give examples of military sabotage either before or after the Dixmude affair.[5] Heimburger’s attempt is a one-off and there is nothing to enable us to relate this singular event to a Party’s general policy.

Finally, in attempt to keep the anti-Communist happy one last time, imagine a fiendish and sadistic Party which exists only to spread pain and death; given its intention of causing the most harm possible, if they gave the order to sabotage the Dixmude then they were looking for a serious blow: severe damage on the high seas and the loss of the ship, bodies and cargo. The press moreover has not hidden these criminal designs from us: “Whole crew in danger!” writes the Aurore. Heimburger put something (into the propeller shaft) which would make it seize up, immobilise the ship on the high seas and endanger the lives of six hundred crew.” Of course it could be that this bloodthirsty Party was obliged to scale down its expectations: but the very least it hoped from the operation was that it would stop the aircraft carrier from casting off.

According to the experts, Heimburger carried out the attempt in such a way that he could not even damage the propeller shaft. If the deposit of swarf had not been discovered before casting off, the Dixmude would have managed to set off all the same, perhaps slightly late. Of course you can say that Heimburger miscalculated his attack. Except that he was a naval engineer and he knew the boat which he was sabotaging inside out. Besides, if we must believe Liebert’s account, he was offered more powerful means of sabotage and he chose to stick to his shavings, so he was perfectly aware of what he was doing.

But the strangest thing is yet to come: not only was the sabotage harmless, not only was it discovered in time, but most importantly there was no reason for it since the Dixmude was not going to Indochina. Certainly there were various rumours about its destination; sailors and soldiers were bubbling over with false reports, it gave them something to do. But we should not presume that they believed the rumours: they moaned or shouted, they spread these unfounded details everywhere, but they were wary of taking any notice of it in their day to day life. So was it on the strength of a rumour, a simple rumour, that Heimburger constructed the whole incident, and ran the risk of the harshest punishment? What strange Communists, indeed, and what a strange sabotage, with no consequences and for no reason. So inappropriate to the situation that we might say it is the work of a fool, and so conspicuous that it seems to have been committed with the express intention of giving away the person responsible. Those who can see the hand of Moscow in it are lucky. As for me, I fail to relate this solitary, furtive operation, with no social impact, destined to fail from the outset, to a world-wide organisation whose constant concern is mass action, effective action. Everything is clear, on the other hand, if I consider it as an isolated event and without preconceived ideas: it is evident that it can harm no one except the poor unfortunate who is guilty of it, nor satisfy anyone except the bastards who will exploit it to ruin Henri Martin. It is said that our actions resemble us and that has never seemed truer to me: it we turn our attention back to Heimburger and look at him more closely, we will see that he portrayed himself perfectly through this nocturnal undertaking.

[1] Events probably did not happen in this way on that day. We would simply like to know – for information only – if the police found out the identity of the three seamen by chance. It is more likely that Liebert had passed this information to them a long time previously and that they were waiting for the order to arrest them. We will see why this order was given only on 13^th March.

[5] Naturally, I am excluding the acts of sabotage which took place under the occupation. This was war, and the whole community was defending itself by all possible means against the Germans. Besides, all the resistance organisations turned to terrorism.