There is a wall plaque on my route to work. It marks the residence of a French Resistance fighter who was was killed. His name is ( is , as in was is and always will be ) Serge Boldrini. The plaque records that this is where Serge Boldrini who was shot on the 19 th day of July 1944 lived. The plaque is situated in Nanterre on the main pedestrian route to La Defense. Thousands upon thousands of people pass this plaque everyday.
Well anyway , please do not ask me to tell you why - it's just one of those things , I decided to find out more about Serge Boldrini.
It turns out that Serge Boldrini , born in Venice of Italian parents and raised in Paris , and his sister were members of the French resistance who assisted Allied fliers shot down over France. It took a brave man to hide bomber crews in those days. It took a brave man to climb into a rattling metal tube , climb thousands of feet into the air and thousands of miles through and into flak and Focke-Wulfs. It took a brave woman to assist brave men helping other brave men who had put their lives on the line for freedom. Maybe that's what Serge Boldrini's sister and an English flyer , whom she was helping , had in common which drew each other together.
They fell in love.
Nobody will ever know whether Serge knew about his sisters affections for the English flyer or whether he cared. He had work to do. It was mostly British boys falling out of the sky in his sector.So he had British lives to save. British boys to send back to their mothers , wives , sons , fathers and girlfriends. Before reporting back for more of the same. His work was dangerous and had consequences. Which he had to face with his back to a wall in the Paris Metro , a bullet in his thigh , a platoon of soldiers gaining ground on him and too many yards of platform between himself and a man hole into the sewers. On the afternoon of the 19 th of July 1944. At half past four on a hot summer afternoon. Knocking off time for Parisien office workers. Checking out time for Serge Boldrini. One month before the liberation of Paris.
A year later the war was over and Serge's sister was in England married to the English flyer. A beautiful story of bravery in the face of terrifying consequences , love between two people from different countries and cultures and a hero who gave his life that others from another country might live and that many more in his country and our country might live in freedom. Un Grand Merci a Vous Serge Boldrini !!. Rest in peace beautiful soul.
Now it is right , fitting and proper that Serge Boldrini should be remembered. And that his story should be told. Because it reminds us of his beauty as a human being. It reminds us of what we are capable of. Heroism. Love.Sacrifice. Commitment and the ability to share and form bonds across cultures , nationality and language. But the thousands of people who pass by the plaque each day are not told anything about who Serge was or what he did. Or why he did it. Or for whom he did it.Or who his sister was. Or what she did. Or love across cultures and people.They are simply told that on this spot lived Serge Boldrini , who was executed. The plaque is a decent size on a decent size wall of a gated complex. There would be room to mention the fact that he helped British fliers get home. There would be room to mention his sister. There would be room to mention the number of flyers he assisted. There would be room to mention any number of things that could unite people , give people cause to pause and reflect on what is best and most beautiful within us and furthermore give thanks for this man's brave courage. But no. The plaque is quite telegraphic. Just here , on this spot lived Serge Boldrini. Shot. On the 19 th of July 1944. And one other detail which I suspect Serge would find damned annoying.
No , more than just annoying methinks he would not be best pleased. Not at all best pleased that nearly seventy years after the day when he faced a platoon of armed soldiers a great part of his plaque would be given over to letting the world know for ever more not that he gave his life for liberty , nor that he died for his adopted country , nor that he had not failed his comrades in the battle against tyranny but that day in and day out for 24 hours a day 7 days a week 52 weeks a year thousands of Parisiens would simply be informed that he was shot (' par les allemands ') BY THE GERMANS .
We just never ever get things right do we ?.
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