Playing - Phillips Exeter Academy

Hooky
to Fight
Hitler
How a 15-year-old
traded Exeter’s campus
for the battlefields
of France
By Jack Herney ’46, ’71,
’92, ’95 (Hon.)
22 The Exeter Bulletin winter
2009
n the cold morning of January 21,
1942, Francois Lacloche ’44, a 15year-old lower middler, left Wentworth Hall with other students on
their way to class. Unlike the others,
Francois walked up Front Street, took a right on Lincoln Street, and headed for the train station.There, he
boarded a Boston-bound train, embarking upon the
first leg of a journey that would initially take him to
Montreal. Francois never returned to Exeter, beginning instead what has become the longest absentfrom-the-dorm-without-permission case in the
history of the Academy.
O
PHOTO AND TELEGRAM COURTESY OF FRANCOIS DE VALLOMBREUSE
Playing
(Above) Francois and other Free French soldiers
trained with Polish paratroopers at Largo Fife
in Scotland. Francois is sitting in the back row,
fourth from the left.The man in the white
uniform is the ranking Free French officer.
(Opposite page) The original telegram
Francois’ mother received shortly after his
THE NEW YORK TIMES
disappearance.
(Left) The New York Times was one of
the major U.S. dailies to cover the escapades
of the Lacloche brothers.
winter 2009 The Exeter Bulletin
23
This is much more than a tale of adolescent mischief. Francois was a young man on
a mission, one that would ultimately be realized almost three years later when, at 18, he
parachuted into France behind enemy lines as the youngest member of a Free French
parachute battalion supporting the D-Day invasion and the subsequent Battle for Normandy. Not the sort of adventure conjured up by most 15-year-olds, but then Francois
Lacloche was obviously no ordinary 15-year-old.
When Francois entered Exeter in the fall of 1940, most
Americans opposed U.S. involvement in the war raging in
Europe and were content to stay on the sidelines.At the Academy, students had great interest in the conflict, as the numerous speakers on war-related issues that year would attest.Yet
Francois had much more than intellectual interest in the war;
he was rather eager to be involved.
Francois’ mother, Mary Ahearn, was from a well-to-do
Philadelphia family that had vacationed in Lake Placid, where
she had met Henri Lacloche, a dashing Frenchman and scion
of Lacloche Freres, a family of international jewelers. Married
in 1924, the couple lived in France, where Francois and his
older brother Jean ’43 attended French and English schools.
After his parents’ divorce, Francois lived with his mother in
Paris and New York, vacationing both in Europe and the
United States—more a citizen of the world than most of his
classmates at Exeter.
Growing up a Lacloche in Paris in the late 1920s and early
’30s exposed Francois to Frenchmen who had lived through the Great War, including
Lacloche men. His father had been one of France’s first pilots during that war when aerial combat was in its infancy.Though the senior Lacloche spoke very little about those
war years, there was in that household—as in so many across France—a sense of embarrassment for how badly the French had done and an animus toward all things German.
Francois’ sense of adventure, so obvious on that wintry day in
’42, no doubt owed much to inheritance. In the 1930s, his father
had joined Andre Malraux’s squadron, España, in support of
Spain’s besieged Republican government and in opposition to the
Hitler-supported Franco Nationalists. Francois’ own declaration
of conscience might have been more muted, but he too had seen
the face of the new Germany—and he didn’t like it one bit.
In 1936, at about the time his father joined Malraux, 10-yearold Francois and his older brother spent two months during their
summer vacation in Heidelberg, at the home of his German
nurse’s sister. It was an opportunity to add German to Francois’ fluent French and English, but he had little of the personal freedom
he had enjoyed back home.There were restrictions on what could
be seen in movie houses and when one could venture outside, as
well as prohibitions on neighborhood schoolboy singing, because,
Francois was told,“the local führer is unhappy.”
Even at the age of 10, the personality of the 15-year-old runaway
Francois would become was already evident. Refusing to exchange
the “Heil Hitler” salute to others at the local barbershop, Francois
was upbraided for his insolence. His explanation that his refusal to do
so stemmed from the fact that “Hitler had killed a woman with an
ax” did not go over well with the locals. Presumably his young age
prevented serious recriminations.
By the time of Germany’s invasion of Poland in 1939, Francois,
his brother and mother had moved to the safety of New York City.
At the suggestion of a family friend, the boys attended the Emerson
School in Exeter, with the expectation that they might then enroll
at the Academy, which they did in the fall of 1940.
France had fallen to the Nazis by then, and naturally Francois had
Refusing to
exchange the “Heil
Hitler” salute to
others at the local
barbershop, Francois
was upbraided for
his insolence.
coverage brought the
Lacloche brothers’
adventures to
a world stage
and influenced how
Gen. de Gaulle
handled the boys’
arrival in London.
24 The Exeter Bulletin winter
2009
THE NEW YORK TIMES
Ongoing media
COURTESY OF FRANCOIS DE VALLOMBREUSE
a more grave view of these events than did
his Amer ican schoolmates, particularly
because his father had remained behind in
France to support the resistance. But what’s a
14-year-old to do but become immersed in
the routines of school?
According to his classmates in Dunbar
Hall, where all preps were housed in those
days, Francois’ schedule included not only
the obligatory classes but also extracurricular
activities like card playing. If memories of
fellow Dunbarites are to be believed, Francois’ talent at these games exceeded those of
most others, though this by no means occupied all of his time. Activities presumably
more acceptable to Dean Kerr included the
Scientific Society in which, even as a prep,
Francois demonstrated initiative and ambition
by sending Albert Einstein an invitation to visit
the campus—an opportunity the busy professor respectfully declined.
By the fall of 1941, sympathy for the Allied
cause had increased at Exeter, as it had all over
America. Coverage of war-related issues in The
Exonian included an article on Max Lerner, a
journalist who had urged immediate entry into
the war in a lecture he had delivered to the student body.The newspaper also reported the outcome of Academy debates on resolutions
designed to promote dialogue on international
relations, including a September resolution to
abolish the isolationist America First Committee. This hardly satisfied Francois’ desire
for more direct participation, so he waited for an unlikely stroke of good luck.
In October 1942, luck presented itself. The Free French submarine, the Surcouf,
arrived at the Portsmouth Naval Shipyard for repairs. To Free Frenchmen all over the
world, the Surcouf represented self-respect and the possibility of a future for France. During the previous year, as France capitulated to the Germans and established the collaborative Vichy regime, exiled Frenchmen like Gen. Charles de Gaulle sought ways to
strike back in whatever way they could.The British had scuttled elements of the French
navy and the Vichy government controlled other ships, but the Surcouf had remained at
sea, loyal to de Gaulle’s Free French. Plans were afoot to lead a raiding party on St.
Pierre/Miquelon, tiny islands off the Newfoundland coast that were territories of
France and under the Vichy government’s control.
The Surcouf was anchored in U.S. waters awaiting orders and—in the interest of Allied
comity and good will—soccer games were arranged between the crew and that of two
British subs, the Parthian and the Pandora, also moored at Portsmouth. Three matches
were scheduled, one on the Academy fields, and an interpreter was sought to assist the
French crew. Did the Academy have anyone who might be sufficiently bilingual to provide that service? Francois volunteered for duty, providing him access to the French
sailors for the afternoon.All he needed was enough time for a couple of short questions.
As he helped with translations on the sideline, a quick, sotto voce query to a French
sailor.“Where do I find the offices of the Free French?’’Answer: Montreal.“Whom do
I ask for?”Answer: Commander Quedrue.
Mission accomplished.
Francois used the remainder of the fall semester to make the necessary arrangements:
procure a fake driver’s license from a cooperative student, research travel connections
from Exeter to Montreal, and secure travel monies from his own accounts.
By the middle of January, he was ready.
A member of Exeter’s Scientific Society,
Francois had invited Albert Einstein to
campus, but unfortunately the professor
was unable to come.
winter 2009 The Exeter Bulletin
25
In New York, on the morning of January 22 at approximately 8:37 a.m., Mrs. Mary
Lacloche received the following telegram from Dean Kerr:“Francois ran away from Exeter
this evening. Jean does not know where he has gone. Please send me word if you hear.”
The frantic Mrs. Lacloche immediately called on well-connected and influential
friends, as well as the usual authorities. Her anxiety was compounded hours later when
Jean disappeared from Exeter, on his way to Montreal with the help of the resourceful
Francois. Now both her sons were runaways, their location unknown.
In Montreal, Francois explained to Commander Quedrue, who was suspicious of
anyone without documentation indicating French citizenship, that his mother was allied
to theVichy government and had refused to turn over his passport.As convincing as this
story appeared to be, it unraveled with the arrival of Jean in Montreal the next day, followed closely by Mrs. Lacloche.
Unfortunately, Jean had been less scrupulous in covering his tracks, leaving sufficient
clues to lead his mother to Montreal and Quedrue. If the brothers’ luck had seemingly
run out, their persistence and persuasive powers had not, and they pleaded to remain
with the Free French. Moved by their arguments for her to reconsider, Mrs. Lacloche
consulted a good friend in NewYork,Arthur A. Ballantine, former undersecretary of the
treasury for President Hoover and head of a prestigious New York law firm. Ballantine
suggested that she expose both boys to the rigorous training they would have to undergo at St. Pierre/Miquelon, which had been liberated in
December by the Surcouf and had become training ground for
Free French recruits. A week or so of that, in the middle of
winter, Ballantine advised, and the boys would be back at
Exeter in no time, happy to be done playing soldiers. Despite
her misgivings, Mrs. Lacloche agreed and accompanied her
sons to the train that would take them to Halifax, where they
would depart for boot camp on the bleak North Atlantic territories of Free France.
Mr. Ballantine proved to be very wrong. The winter climate and boot camp environment rather appealed to both
boys, particularly Francois, who warmed to the physical regimen much more than he did the mental regimen of Exeter.
One week turned to two, and then three, and then several as
neither boy showed any inkling of turning tail. In fact, even at
ages 15 and 17, the boys were more robust and hardy than
many of the more diminutive French recruits, and they did
rather well in measuring up to the rigors of basic training.
When a film crew arrived to record the heroic exploits of
the nascent French freedom fighters, Francois and Jean were
chosen to be among those who represented the finest of what
France-in-exile would at some point put against the Wehrmacht.Yet, if harsh climate
and military discipline wouldn’t end this bit of adolescent adventure, the boys’ own
youth would.As news reports of the runaways filtered back to Montreal and even London, where de Gaulle had been apprised of the matter, their true ages emerged. Not
wishing to hazard the welfare of minors any more, Quedrue issued orders to place both
boys in custody, with the intention of returning them to their mother.
Under the guard of the Free French authorities, Francois and Jean left St.
Pierre/Miquelon in mid-March to return to Halifax, accompanied by fellow cadets
about to embark on a ship bound for Europe. Francois and Jean met Quedrue at the
Lord Nelson Hotel in Halifax, where they would spend the night before traveling to
Montreal and the welcoming arms of Mrs. Lacloche. Ultimately, assuming Dean Kerr
would oblige, they would then return to classes at Exeter.
That afternoon, Francois and Jean requested and received permission to visit their
chums aboard the Llanstephan Castle, an aging passenger vessel named for a 12th century Norman castle in Wales that had been converted for military use and was scheduled
to depart for Europe early the next morning.The wily Quedrue, not trusting the runaways, assigned two guards to accompany the boys wherever they went in the city and
to ensure their return to the Lord Nelson by dinnertime.
If the brothers’ luck
had seemingly run
out, their persistence
and persuasive
powers had not,
and they pleaded to
remain with the
Free French.
26 The Exeter Bulletin winter
2009
From Exeter to the Front Lines
Greenock
London
Montreal
Brest
St. Pierre / Miquelon
Exeter
Paris
Vosges
Mountains
Halifax
Boston
While the guards waited at the gangplank, Francois and Jean went aboard and, amid
final farewells to friends, searched frantically for an unoccupied cabin. Not surprisingly,
late-winter crossings of the North Atlantic through U-boat-infested waters were not in
great demand and a vacant cabin was not difficult to find.As they descended the gangplank to their waiting guards, Jean and Francois accosted the English sailor on duty.
“Remember our faces…we’ll be back later,” Francois said. Quedrue’s French-speaking
guards understood nothing of the brief conversation.
Upon their return to the Lord Nelson, Quedrue instructed his charges to go to
their room and remain there until morning. And to their room they went.There, the
boys wrote a note to Quedrue and to their mother, saying that they were leaving on
an excursion across Canada and not to worry about them. Long after midnight, they
slipped out of the hotel, returned to the ship and, dressed in their cadet uniforms and
thus seemingly part of the Free French contingent, went on board. At 4 a.m., the
Llanstephan Castle weighed anchor and sailed out into the black night, toward England
and the war, carrying an assortment of civilian passengers, Free French cadets and two
PEA runaways.
One can only imagine the panic this must have caused Mrs. Lacloche, not to mention Quedrue, who had to explain his lack of oversight to the distraught mother and to
de Gaulle.The major dailies in NewYork and Boston, which had initially run stories on
the missing brothers, once again took up the tale of the would-be teenage soldiers. Of
course, the boys’ note indicated that Francois and Jean were simply traveling somewhere
in Canada. How dangerous could that be?
Little did Mrs. Lacloche or the media know. Crossings of the Atlantic in the winter
of ’42 put one in the middle of the war zone. German U-boats had been responsible for
sinking more than 270 ships in the North Atlantic sea lanes during the first four months
of that year.
Fortunately, the slow, very vulnerable Llanstephan Castle managed to zigzag its way
across without incident.Aboard, wearing uniforms to blend in, Francois and Jean spent
a rather pleasant crossing largely in the company of their cadet friends, retiring to the
more luxurious accommodations of their cabin for sleep.
Arrival in Greenock on the Scottish coast presented new problems—namely, how to
get off the ship and through authorities without any official papers. Not so insurmountable, as it turned out.
Among the paying customers on board were two English nurses who were return-
Francois’ journey from the Academy to the
battlefields of France spanned three years and
five countries.This map highlights his travels
up until his appointment to Gen. de Gaulle’s
Paris staff.
winter 2009 The Exeter Bulletin
27
ing to their homeland to assist with the war effort. As the ship docked, the helpful
Lacloche brothers inquired whether they might assist the nurses with their luggage
down the gangplank.The ladies indicated the lorry that would take their luggage to the
hotel, and the boys, like the other porters, were allowed through to the truck with the
bags, where they hurtled themselves over the piles of suitcases and hid in the darkness.
A ride to the center of town would leave them just where they wanted to be—free and
unencumbered, on British soil, with ready train access to London and the Free French
headquarters of de Gaulle.
Francois and Jean presented themselves to de Gaulle at Waterloo Place, the general’s
headquarters. By that time, news articles had alerted the world to the escapades of the
Lacloche boys: Hunt Exeter Boys Who Joined Free French read one headline; Exeter Boys
NotWith Free French stated another. De Gaulle announced that they were to be returned
immediately to their mother and the authorities in the United States.
Unfazed, Francois responded,“You can’t do that.”
“And why can’t I do that?” de Gaulle demanded.
“The Germans are sinking ships all over the North Atlantic,” Francois said.“What if
our ship is torpedoed…what if we’re lost at sea? You’ll be
responsible for sending us to our deaths.” Good point.
Conversation between de Gaulle and Mrs. Lacloche resulted in an interim solution:The boys would go north to a Free
French cadet school, out of harm’s way. Further study over the
course of a few months would provide them with productive
activity and perhaps bring about a more propitious reunion
with their mother.
Another school, even one unlike Exeter and more inclined
to martial pursuits, was hardly to Francois’ liking, involving as
it did books, tests, and other trappings of traditional academia.
Yet, even at 16, Francois possessed skills very few soldiers did,
namely fluency in French and English—a great asset the
British military was eager to utilize.
With an invasion of France by Allied troops imminent,
every unit commander wished for ease of communication
between not only the British troops and Free French soldiers,
but also between non-French-speaking soldiers and the partisans they would encounter in France.Thus, within months
of his arrival at the school, Francois had negotiated a transfer
to a Free French paratroop unit training in England, thanks
to a friendship with a fellow cadet whose father, a high-ranking military officer, had
agreed to help. At this point the sibling partnership ended, as Jean remained behind at
the cadet school.
First at Largo Fife and subsequently at bases at Ringway in Manchester and Fairford—the staging areas for D-Day and the Battle of Normandy—Francois learned from
Polish paratroopers the skills necessary to assist in the assault on Hitler’s Fortress Europe.
He became known as a fearless soldier—one who reveled in the excitement of high
places—and invaluable for his bilingual abilities. Before Francois had even completed
his training, his commanding officers had recommended to de Gaulle that Francois
command a carrier pigeon unit in occupied France—a suggestion summarily dismissed
by the general.
By the time Francois was ready to fight in early July 1944, D-Day had been launched,
though the Battle for Normandy was by no means won. Difficult German resistance in
the Cotentin Peninsula and behind the landing beaches had prevented both the capture
of Cherbourg and the breakout of the Allied forces toward Paris. Francois’ first parachute
jump was to assist in the assault on the peninsula, which would keep the German forces
divided and ultimately gain the large port needed to sustain an invasion of France.
Like so many airborne efforts of that time, pilot error left Francois and his “stick” of
10 Free French paratroopers far from their intended drop zone.With the aid of Breton
farmers who provided his unit with clogs and peasant dress, Francois managed to make
contact with resistance units and American troops coming from Normandy. Such con-
His unit came
under friendly fire,
requiring Francois
to climb aboard an
American tank and,
in English, scream
for them to
cease fire.
28 The Exeter Bulletin winter
2009
*
COURTESY OF FRANCOIS DE VALLOMBREUSE
tact with Allied units was not
without per il. The Milice,
Frenchmen loyal to the Vichy
regime, sought out other
Frenchmen who were thought
to be members of the resistance. Suspected rebels were
either shot on sight or turned
over to the Germans.
Moreover, in the fog of war
with no clear battle lines
drawn, Americans could mistake one for the enemy, which
was exactly what happened to
Francois. His unit came under
friendly fire, requiring Francois to climb aboard an American tank and, in English,
scream for them to cease fire.
He went on to serve as an
inter preter for one of the
American intelligence units
and assisted in a two-week
effort to press the Allied advance toward Brest.
With orders to return to England for another drop, Francois went to St. Lô with
American troops and crossed the channel, having won his first Croix de Guerre medal
for heroism.
The second drop in late 1944 was in the Vosges Mountains near the German border, and it was no less eventful than the first. Hidden for a time by the French Resistance, Francois emerged to lead scores of resistance fighters—one newspaper account
listed the total at 1,000—in laying ambushes for Germans behind enemy lines. Francois and his troops took many German prisoners, some of which were only too happy
to be out of the war. Surrender was also particularly sweet: Francois dispensed chocolate to the frightened German teenagers who had been forced to fight along Hitler’s
final defensive line.
Francois received more honors for his bravery along the way, including three additional Croix de Guerres, a British military medal, a Polish Silver Eagle, and a U.S.Army
commendation. Not bad for one who had just turned 18.
By the time members of Exeter’s class of ’44 were moving into freshman college dormitories or into Army uniforms for the first time, Francois had finished his fighting and
was stationed in Paris as a member of de Gaulle’s staff. He returned to the U.S. in 1949
as an emissary for de Gaulle in search of funding for postwar educational programs to
aid the generation of French youth whose schooling had been interrupted by the war.
Exeter was not on his itinerary, nor has it been despite various careers that have propelled him around the globe since he left his post with de Gaulle. He served as a war
correspondent in Vietnam during the final days of France’s Asian empire; flew his own
plane to Laos, which he donated to support the government’s efforts against communism; assisted Mother Teresa in relief efforts in India; and has had a long and successful
career as an international art dealer.
And so Francois remains, to this day, absent from the dormitory without permission.
He lives now, as he has for years, in the family home in Biarritz, France. No doubt he
would be welcomed back—not to answer for the youthful indiscretion that left him on
the Dean’s Office’s most wanted list, but to receive thanks for conduct most becoming
an Exonian.
Heroism and patriotism ran in the family.
Francois, his father, Henri, and Jean (left to
right) all felt compelled to serve Gen. Charles
de Gaulle in defense of their homeland.
Jack Herney is the Robert Shaw White Professor and an instructor in the History Department.
*Francois took the name of his great aunt’s husband, de Vallombreuse, later in life to preserve that branch of
the family name.This change had the blessing of both his mother and father.
winter 2009 The Exeter Bulletin
29