Villa St.-Jean Collège Français |
Editor's NOTES: There were several contributors to this Section who certainly deserve acknowledgement.
1) Most of the Photo alblums are from a CD carefully compiled from a number of contributors by Former Villa student Kevin Di Palma . Kevin's CD was kindly sent to me by
François "Chris" Orenga de Gaffory. So thank you Kevin and thank you François.
I've separately had François Ronsin identify some of the personnel in the photos - credit is stated under the appropriate photos.
2) Former Villa student Guy Allegre was kind enough to send my some digital images that were important to him and that he remembers from his time (1940s) at Villa St.-Jean Collège Français.
It seems that some of the images were from an earlier web site that François Ronsin was involved in (translating the English Wikepedia Page),
with some of the text written by Jean-Baptiste de Weck. So thanks also goes out to both François and Jean-Baptiste.
3) Also, former Villa student Gérard Orsel has provided me with new and updated higher resolution scans of photos and text originally sent to Kevin concerning his brother Guy Orsel who attended the Villa
in the period 1917- 1920
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Sebastieo Bastos
An Amazon Indian recounts the remarkable story of his life (including his days at Villa St. Jean).
"Ma forêt au bord du grand fleuve"; par Sebastião Bastos ; récit recueilli par Claude Mossé. Published 1976 by R. Laffont in Paris.
This is the
story of Sebastieo Bastos, and it is a lot more then a mere biography. This extract from the book of the same name is as
well the history of the systematic exploitation to which Brazilian Indians have been
subjected to since the rubber boom of the late 19th Century. The personal endeavor of the
chronist is tightly linked to the destruction of a people for which the forest on the
banks of the big river are the reference point for all decisions in life; this is where
Bastos learns to distinguish between "the significant and the insignificant".
His account is the novel of a man locking for a time gone by.
Bastos is the son of a Mahari Indian and a mestizo father who in the years before the
first world war was the owner of a rubber plantation, which allowed him to amass a small
fortune. This is how he could afford to send his son Sebastieo to a boarding school in
Fribourg, Switzerland, where the little Indian studied with the likes of Antoine de Saite
Exuperie and the Agha Khan.
With the outbreak of the first world war his higher education is terminated. He returns to
Brazil as a fifteen year old boy to hear that his family now is completely broke. Father
Bastos was betrayed by one of his business partners. When Sebastieo realizes what
injustice has been done to his father and family, he solemnly swears never to wear a hat
again, until he has taken complete revenge for all the shame and disgrace.
Besides the adventurous human fate of this man, we learn a lot about the customs and
habits of the Indian tribes of the Amazon basin, but also about the ritual of Macumba, in
which Christian and African traditions are melted into one. Bastos tells us about the life
in the jungle, the danger of snakes big and small, about hunting crocodiles, the
bloodthirsty Piranhes and defending themselves against the not much less murderous
adventurers and exploiters from all over the world, who come looking for profit in this
"Green Hell".
Back in 1976 when this book was published, Sebastieo Bastos was living near Manaus, the
proud father and grandfather of many children from several wives. At the time he was
witnessing with the Indians own sad resignation, how his beloved native lands, the world
of the jungle, was being destroyed by the bulldozers of a society looking for profit.
For the 500th anniversary of the discovery of Brazil by the Portuguese Pedro Alvares
Cabral, for the 100th anniversary of Sebastieo Bastos, for the 2000th anniversary of
Jesus Christ, and for the 20th anniversary of my Texas boots next year, I would love to
translate this book into English and Portuguese and visit the places he talks about, and
report with pictures and text live on the internet about the changes that have occurred.
It might be a very welcome story in these days of global economic turmoil, where some of
us are asking ourselves again about the virtues of the Protestant work ethic and the ever
increasing wealth of the first world and the unrelenting poverty endured by the third
world.
Bastos was born on the 19th of January 1900 on the upper regions of the Rio Madeira. He
was raised in the ways of the Indians by his lifelong friend and guide Joachim, who was
working on the plantation for his father and taught him all that was necessary to survive
in the jungle. As a child he went through a bout with malaria, which prompted his father
make a vow, that if young Sebastieo would survive, they would not cut his hair until he
was 7 years old, when his father would take him to town and have him christened and then
take him to a boarding school at a convent near the capital of Belem. This is where he
mostly learned mathematics and the meaning of racism.
In August 1910 his father took him on a journey across the Atlantic Ocean to Cherbourg,
France. Ten days in Paris and the Eiffel tower and all, and then to the College St. Jean in
Fribourg, Switzerland. That was the last time he saw his father.
More racism at that school, with the only joyful experiences of good soccer games and his
first kiss in the spring of 1913 from a girl of rich family in Luzern. This of course
caused a scandal, for which he then had his winter 1913 /14 holidays and Sundays to spend
with an elderly Swiss German couple who were retired high school teachers. They were
convinced that a good dose of Protestant ethics will get this little Indian after all to
become a proper Brazilian. In that winter of 1913/14 he does though notice that the
atmosphere at the school is changing rapidly and by February some of his class mates are
packing their things and leave the school in a hurry.
After the exams in the spring of 1914, the couple tells him of their plan to take him on a
visit to Vienna, to show him what grandeur can be achieved through order and discipline.
In history class he learned to what excesses such ambitions can drive a man, thinking of
Napoleon, who fought all the way to complete destruction at Beresina and Waterloo.
Even though the couple believed firmly that there was going to be a war, they were not
about to get discouraged with their plan to show him Vienna, since they believed firmly,
that the forces of the Emperor will show the French in no time where they belong.
On the day the first shots were fired in Sarajevo, the couple got into a terrible rage,
screaming in Swiss German and yelling at the French Swiss frier, when they brought young
Sebasti�o back to the school.
"This time we'll not get around a war", they
said.
"This despicable assassination was certainly the doing of the Jews and the
Freemasons. France is full of such riffraff."
"War is certainly a very disturbing thing. Let's pray to God, so that maybe a miracle
may still occur", responded the director of the school.
"What's going to happen to the students?"
"Our teachers all have followed their calling to fight on the side of the French
army, German teachers we do not employ. Most of the students have left for their homes,
let's hope somebody will soon come to pick the little Indian."
"We in any case can not keep him any longer with us. And if there is any fighting
going to have to be done, I hope you agree with us, that it is in our national interest to
align ourselves with the Emperor, wouldn't you agree, Father?"
"Not exactly", responded the frier, "I am Swiss, I'm a man of the cloth,
and I am the director of a school, where children from all countries in the world can live
and learn together in peace. I hope that our country will remain neutral. Nevertheless,
even as a devout Catholic, I taught my students, that the German Poet Heinrich Heine had
to leave his fatherland because he was a Jew...It is a question of propriety..."
The couple left in a rage, and that was the first time the director of the school hugged
the little Indian and said,
"Sebastieo, it has not always been easy for you to fit
into the order of our school, but soon you will be back home in your forest, where animals
only kill for food. Here on this side of the ocean, humans are usually worse than animals.
Some of your classmates will soon shoot at each other, even though they were friends for
years. When we colonized your part of the earth, we wanted to have you believe us, that we
would bring you peace and culture. We came in the name of Jesus Christ, and under the
protection of the cross, we enslaved your ancestors, stole their belongings and brought
back your gold. If it comes to all out war, let's hope and pray to God, that it will be
the last. Don't forget us when you are back in your forest and pray for us. Freedom is the
most precious thing there is, and peace is what this earth desperately needs!"
Three days later Bastos is on his way back to Brazil, and eventually starts his journey
through the Amazon, looking for his father to get back the property that was taken away
from his family.
In 1915 he goes back to the Jesuit boarding school in Belem, to see if they have any
leads of the whereabouts of his father. The journey then takes him to Altamira where he
finds one of his fathers former employees. There he learns, that his father died three
months earlier in the house of his aunt just outside of town. This is also the moment when
he realizes, that the Brazilian rubber boom is definitely over. Thanks to the British, who
managed to smuggle enough rubber tree seeds out of Manaus to start their own plantations
in southeast Asia, the price for latex had completely collapsed from its all time high in
1912. In this town he is also introduced to Macumba and a German Jew by the name
Frankenheim. He is not so sure what to make of that fellow, since he knows, that it is the
Germans who are at this time killing his former French school teachers, and supposedly the
Jews who killed the founder of Sebastieo's Catholic faith. He does however decide to
trust him, when the foreigner offers to help him fight his father's former partner in
court back in Manaus. Sebastieo is of coarse in great danger to get killed by the
accomplices of that guy, and in some strange twist of fate ends up getting drafted into
the millitary to serve as a jungle guide in the border war between Peru and Brazil on the
upper reaches of the Rio Solimees. His service starts on the day after his 16th birthday,
and the story continues with trips by canoe and white water rafts.
In late November 1917 Frankenheim hears of the Bolshevik Revolution and then explains to
Sebasti�o in great excitement that a great thinker by the name of Lenin got rid of the
Czar in St. Petersburg, and that soon there will be peace on earth and freedom for all,
and that this will eventually bring the people of the forest what they need to combat the
evils of capitalism. Sebastieo and his Indian mother do not exactly understand the
significance of those events that are happening in the freezing cold of a country 10,000
miles away, and so don't pay much attention to it.
But when the Americans get into the war on the side of the French Alliance, he get's
really worried, thinking that the US might do with Europe what the capitalists were doing
with his people in the forest.
In the winter of 1918 he and his old friend Joachim make their way back up the Rio Madeira
to the plantation on the Jamare in hopes they would find some traces of his father's
former partner. After all, there was also supposedly diamonds in that region. But no one
is to be found and so Sebastieo leaves Joachim behind to restore the abandoned house and
continues on the elusive search of the villain. In the years following, he wanders around
the region of northern Rondonia, recalling also the expedition by General Rondon and
Theodore Roosevelt in 1914 down the river of doubt, which then was renamed in Roosevelt's
honor.
In 1923 he comes down with a bout with malaria and ends up in a little Indian village on
the Rio Taripare. The chef musters him out and after he has proven to be a good guy,
hunting with the men and paying respect to the ancestors of the tribe, he is rewarded with
a bride. Bastos enjoys this new situation for a while, but eventually convinces the chef
that he must continue on his solemn journey. He finds his way back to Joachim on the
plantation in 1924, where he finally gets to meet the foe.
Over the next few years he travels back and forth to court in nearby Humaite and visits
at his mother in Manaus. 1929 brings finally some calm into his soul, as the death of the
villain of the story now terminates any legal chances to get the title to their property
back. In the years following, he and Joachim continue living in the forest, reporting in
word and writing to the Governor about the small and disappearing Indian villages of the
Amazon.
On a visit to his mother in 1943 he gets to hear about the renewed troubles in Europe and
gets to meet his second wife. In 1944 he loses his mother and in 1957 after 13 children
his beloved wife. This prompts him to move back to the city and for the first time in his
life makes a modern living as the secretary of the market of Manaus. Following the opening
of the first travel agency and regular commercial air traffic in 1965, he becomes a
somewhat reclusive tour guide, sadly observing the destruction of his native forest on the
banks of the big river.
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VILLA SAINT-JEAN Collège Français
Fribourg, Suisse
L'album de photos 1917 a 1920
Guy Orsel
Guy Orsel
(1902-1981) est reste 3 ans a la Villa St Jean, de 1917 a 1920.
Ses parents habitaient pendant la guerre 14/18 pres du front, et avaient souhaite qu'il ait de bonnes conditions pour ses etudes, ainsi que son frere Christian.
Guy Orsel a dirige plus tard des entreprises le Lait Mont Blanc, a Rumilly (Haute-Savoie), et ses 3 fils, Jacques, Gerard et Eric ont tous trois ete a la Villa Saint Jean.
Il avait tellement apprecie Fribourg qu'il a apouse en 1941 une Fribourgeoise, Simone de Boccard (dont le frere Francois avait ete a St Jean 20 ans apres lui). Apres le deces de
Simone en 1966, il se remaria en 1969 avec une autre fribourgeoise, Colette de Weck .
Parmi ses souvenirs marquant de la Villa, il a assiste en direct, lors d'une promenade, a la chute du pont suspendu du Gotteron ! Guy Orsel a bien connu Antoine de St Exupery, qui etait 2 classes avant lui.
Son album de photos 1917 a 1920 (malheureusement tres defraichi) dormait depuis longtemps au fond d'une malle, mais, grace a Kevin Di Palma, il verra l'eternite
Gerard ORSEL (1954-1960)
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As a side note, French author Jean-Christophe Notin has commented to me , that the Director of French intelligence from 1970 to 1981 Alexandre de Marenches attended Villa Saint Jean at least from 1933 to 1934.
In 1970 Alexandre was installed as head of the S.D.E.C.E. (SDECK) the forerunner of the current Direction Generale de la Securite Exterieure (D.G.S.E.). He would remain in this post for 11 years.
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Kevin's original comments: "Mr. Jean Halbeisen sent us these photos for inclusion here. Mr. Halbeisen lives in France and has many fond memories of the Villa.
Jean's daughter, Michele Latimer, lives in Boston. Michele recently visited her father in France and brought back these photos.
We thank them both for the photos! They are a great addition to our web page. "
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M. Jean Halbesien returned to the Villa August, 1999.
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La
Villa Saint-Jean a Fribourg (Suisse)
dans les annees l939-1945
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This is my article which resumes so many years spent at "la Villa" during world war II. We were really a little community of people living together. I strongly shared the life of the college
as a community. It was the capacity of our teachers to stimulate our social gifts, to awake our generosity and our understanding towards the others. I hope that the Marianists would accept this article as a kind of true recognition of
their great dedication to their young companions. We were educated as equals, as responsible people, and in our large majority we respected them.
Dans leur grande majorite, les enseignants et les etudiants de notre college etaientde nationalite francaise. Une grande partie etait composee d'Alsaciens tels que le Directeur (Pere Marcel Ehrburger), le prefet de Gallia (Pere Enderle), le professeur de philosophie (Pere Louis Meyer),le professeur d'histoire (M.Adolphe) et leprofesseur de physique-chimie (M.Friedblatt) ainsi que de nombreux eleves (freres Jacques, Gilbert et Raymond Monnier, freres Martin, Bernard, Rene etEtienne Burrus, les freres Jacques, Josy et Roland d'Andlau, les freres Dominique et "Nanot" de Leusse, Gilbert de Dietrich, les freres Pierre etJean Rudloff.
Dans leur coeur, les Alsaciens etaient generalement gaullistes.Je me souviens d'une nuit dramatique de mai 1940 au cours de laquelle des parents sont venus chercher de nombreux eleves pour les ramener dans la France envahie. Le portrait du marechal Petain est present des juin 1940 dans toutes les salles d'etudes et de jeux, et ce jusqu'au printemps 1944. A ce moment, comme par magie,du coup, le Marechal est remplace par le General de Gaulle.
Pendant la guerre, on n'a jamais chante le fameux hymne Marechal, nous voici devant vous, les sauveurs de la France . Personne ne nous l'a appris.Vichy n'etait present que sur les photos. Pas de propagande, non moment. Partout on parle ouvertement des Boches, personne n'est jamais favorable a une victoire nazie. D'ailleurs, la grande majorite d'entre nous ne soupconnait pas non plus Petain de le favoriser.
Parmi nous il y avait le fils de l'ambassadeur de France en Suisse, Jean-Eudes de la Baume, les fils de l'attache militaire, Pierre et Jean Rudloff, le fils dul'air Thibaud, le fils du consul de France a Berne, Jacques Martin. Simultanement, il y avait aussi les enfants du representant officieux en Suisse de la "France libre", Dominique et Nanot de Leusse, ainsi que les propres neveux du general de Gaulle, les deux fils de son frere Xavier, quiportait le nom d'emprunt de Leclerc. Quand, au printemps 1944, la 1ere armee francaise du general de Lattre de Tassigny, apres avoir debarque en Provence, atteint la frontiere suisse et longe le Jura,plusieurs eleves, parmi les plus ages, ont quitte notre college pour rejoindre les rangs des liberateurs. Parmi eux se trouvaient notre amie Lally de Menthon et Bernard Burrus.
Le groupe le plus important apres les Francais etait celui des Suisses. Certains de nos maitres, le prof.de 3eme (villastjean 54_Yearbookpage14) (abbe Jacques Ceppi), le prof. de 6eme ( M.Gremaud), le prof de Sciences nat.(M.Masset), etaient suisses. De meme la souriante concierge, Mademoiselle Verdon, qui etait vaudoise et representait parmi nous le beau sexe, si l'on excepte (villastjean/57Yearbook/page35) les gentilles seurs italiennes de l'infirmerie. Parmi les eleves suisses, la plupart provenaient du canton tres francophile de Fribourg. Certains avaient une mere ou une grandemere francaise comme les freres Claude et Philippe Rieser de Berne, et la nombreuse famille franco-suisse des Burrus. Pierre Oechslin etait le fils du consul de Suisse a Dijon. Plusieurs Neuchetelois de religion catholique (Robert, de Coulon) avaient envoye leurs enfants a Fribourg pour qu'ils reeoivent leur education chez les Marianistes.
Parmi les etrangers, il y avait les fils de diplomates accredites a Berne, comme par exemple Bernard Kelly, fils du ministre du Royaume-Uni et de son epouse francaise. Les trois fils du conseiller de la Legation de Belgique, les de Caritat, le fils du ministre du Chili Cristi, les fils du ministre ou du conseiller de la legation d'Iran, Fehri et Faroh Meykadeh, les enfants de l'ancien ministre de Bulgarie en France, les freres Dimitri, Petar et Johny Stancioff, dont la mere etait americaine.
Il y avait encore les deux freres Pappenheim (l'aene s'appelait Pierre), neerlandais, dont l'elegante mere etait installee a l'Hotel Suisse a Fribourg en attendant des jours meilleurs. Nous n'avons plus eu de leurs nouvelles depuis 1941. Pendant un certain temps nous avons eu parmi nous le fils d'un membre influent du Parlement et du gouvernement de Roumanie, Ion Bratianu.
Le petit monde de la Villa Saint-Jean avait des relations privilegiees avec l'Institut Saint-Dominique de Pensier (a environ 10 kilometres de Fribourg en direction de Morat). Dirige par les seurs dominicaines, cet institut assurait l'education des filles. Comme a Saint-Jean, les professeurs et la majorite des eleves etaient francais. De nombreux camarades de la Villa Saint-Jean avaient une ou plusieurs seurs a Pensier et voulaient bien se charger de nos messages admiratifs lorsqu'ils y etaient invites.
Avec Fribourg nous n'avions pas de rapports intimes sauf le jour de la Fete-Dieu ou nous defilions en uniforme dans les rues pavoisees et decores de mais , jeunes arbres feuillus coupes specialement la veille et adosses contre les facades des maisons devant lesquelles passait la procession qui partait de la cathedrale St.Nicolas, et parcourait successivement la rue des Bouchers, la rue du Pont-Suspendu, la Grand-rue, la rue de Lausanne, la route des Alpes pour regagner la cathedrale. Quatre reposoirs , installes devant de belles tapisseries des 17eme et 18eme siecles et une foret de cierges, etaient places certains endroits strategiques : au milieu de la Grand'rue, puis sur le Bletz devant l'ancienne confiserie Krachpelz, sur la place Georges Python devant l'Albertinum, et enfin sur la place Notre-Dame permettant a l'eveque du diocese et aux porteurs du dais de deposer l'ostensoir et leur fardeau pour reprendre haleine, et aux cheurs d'entonner les plus beaux chants latins. Ce jour-le toute la ville etait reveillee a cinq heures par le canon tire depuis la chapelle de Lorette perchee sur les falaises au-dessus de la Sarine. Toute la population participait a la procession, preparant les enfants des ecoles vetus de blanc portant des paniers remplis de petales de fleurs. Toutes les associations, les musiques, les ordres religieux, les etudiants portant couleurs, les collegiens de Saint-Michel defilaient dans un ordre impeccable. A la fin de la procession arrivait le gouvernement cantonal a in corpore , un detachement de l'armee suisse, des representants de la garde pontificale dans le costume dessine par Michel-Ange, et enfin le dais majestueux porte par 4 commissaires de la Confrerie du Saint-Sacrement entourant l'eveque portant l'ostensoir offert jadis a Fribourg par le pape Jules II. La population s'agenouillait sur le passage du Saint-Sacrement. Il faisait toujours beau et chaud. Fribourg se montrait sousson jour traditionnel le plus emouvant.
Les campagnes des environs etaient parcourues a pied, par groupes le jeudi apres-midi, jour de conge. Nous faisions ensemble de longues promenades lorsqu'il n'y avait pas de grand match de football en perspective sur le stade de la Villa. Je me souviens d'une ballade qui nous mena de l'autre cete du pont de Grandfey dans une ferme ou nous avons assiste a l'egorgement d'un cochon, dont nous avons soigneusement emporte l'cil sanguinolent que l'un de nous, particulierement populaire, a retrouve au refectoire au fond de sa tasse de chocolat chaud.
Les plaisanteries de mauvais goet de ce genre n'etaient cependant pas habituelles La grande promenade a avait lieu une fois par an en ete apres les examens du mois de juin. Nous partions generalement en montagne, prenions l'autocar vert tendre des GFM (Gruyere-Fribourg-Morat) et partions a l'assaut du Moleson, du Gibloux ou d'une montagne du Lac-Noir, sommets verdoyants pres desquels poussent encore les gentianes et les lys Margegon, et dont les flancs sont couverts de gras peturages ou paissent des troupeaux de vaches gardes par les armaillis. Je vois encore notre professeur de philosophie, l'abbe Meyer, descendre les pentes en gambadant comme un jeune homme malgre sa taille rondelette et sa tres mauvaise vue.
Parmi les bons souvenirs de ces annees de guerre, il faut rappeler les soirees theetrales organisees dans le cadre des cours de francais par les differentes classes. Le Pere Ceppi me fascinait par son sens de la mise en scene et de l'interpretation. Il parvenait a tirer de ses eleves de quatrieme et de troisieme des accents lyriques ou tragiques inattendus. J'avais du prononcer d'une voix profonde le monologue de Don Diegue, a O rage, a desespoir, a vieillesse ennemiee. dans le but de bouleverser de mes accents corneliens l'assemblee de mes camarades. Une autre fois, avec mes condisciples Merens et Monnier nous avons interprete les trois vertus theologales, la foi, l'esperance et la charite comme le souhaitait l'abbe Meyer. Notre accoutrement m'amuse encore aujourd'hui.
A la Villa, a part les salles de classe et de jeux, les principaux lieux de reunion etaient la chapelle et le refectoire. Nous frequentions la chapelle tous les matins pour assister a la messe obligatoire dite en latin, langue qui, au bout de quelques annees n'avait plus beaucoup de secrets pour nous. Nous connaissions par cheur les prieres et les chants, meme la a Priere pour la Suisse a composee par notre eveque Monseigneur Besson juste avant la guerre; elle etait recitee au pied de l'autel par le pretre qui invoquait la benediction de Dieu, l'intercession de la Vierge et des saints en faveur du petit pays epargne jusqu'ici. Nous venions aussi a la chapelle le dimanche soir et les jours de fete pour a le Salut a pendant lequel etait adore le Saint-Sacrement, etaient reciteesles litanies et chantes le Tantum ergo et le Salve Regina. Parmi les grandes fetes religieuses nous celebrions avec ferveur celle de Sainte Jeanne d'Arc le 30 mai, celle de Saint Thomas d'Aquin le 7 mars et celle de Saint Joseph.
Au refectoire, situe au-dessous de la chapelle, dans le pavillon Bossuet, nous nous rendions plusieurs fois par jour pour le petit dejeuner, le repas de midi et le repas du soir, parfois l'apres-midi, les jours de conge, pour prendre a les quatre heures . Aussitet apres le Benedicite a recite par notre directeur qui presidait avec tous nos professeurs une grande table placee au milieu de la paroi centrale, commeneaient les conversations tres bruyantes et tres animees. Les cuisiniers n'avaient pas la tache facile meme en Suisse pendant la guerre. Ils faisaient de leur mieux pour nous rendre la vie agreable. Nous mangions beaucoup de pommes de terre sous toutes leurs formes. Je me souviens du poisson frit du vendredi et des bonnes croetes au fromage. Les salades de choux rouge revenaient souvent Comme fruits, nous avions des pommes, des poires, des cerises, des pruneaux. Nous buvions une specialite que je n'ai plus jamais eu l'occasion d'apprecier apres mon college: la fr enette . Elle etait, dit-on, preparee avec les fruits du frene, arbre tres repandu en pays de Fribourg.
Nous etions sportifs. Il y avait les passionnes du football, et des matches etaient organises periodiquement avec les equipes de Grangeneuve (l'Ecole d'agriculture dirigee elle aussi par les Peres Marianistes venus de France et situee sur un grand domaine a Posieux, pres de Fribourg) et du College Saint-Michel (ville de Fribourg) dont Saint-Jean etait la section francaise. Il y avait les amateurs de basket et de base-ball. Il y avait aussi les partisans du jeu de boule et du cochonnet, qui philosophaient tout en plaeant leurs boules et comptant leurs points. Il y avait enfin les joueurs de bridge et d' echecs. En hiver des expeditions a ski etaient organisees vers le Lac-Noir. On montait en peaux de phoque jusqu'a la cabane du Hohberg, car il n'y avait pas encore de telesiege.
Notre college voisinait avec le seminaire des Pere Marianistes qui recrutait ses eleves dans differents pays, en particulier en France et en Suisse. Nous avons assiste a la construction de ce seminaire, grand betiment jaune qui nous paraissait ultramoderne et auquel fut donne le nom du fondateur des Marianistes, le Pere Chaminade recemment beatifie par le Pape Jean-Paul II en 2001. Certains seminaristes, qui n'avaient pas termine leur baccalaureat, frequentaient nos cours. Mais nous les voyions peu en dehors des classes.
La fin de l'annee scolaire avait lieu au debut de juillet. Elle etait marquee par une reunion solennelle au cours de laquelle notre directeur, que nous appelions le Tronc en raison de sa presence massive et de son autorite naturelle, nous donnait connaissance de nos notes et nous remettait nos prix sous forme de beaux livres . Nous avions le ceur battant, meme si, a la Sapiniere, nous etions deje grands. De Weck, vous etes une etoile qui pelit a me suis-je entendu dire lors d'une annee ou mes resultats avaient laisse a desirer. Chacun recevait devant l'ensemble de sa section (Gallia pour les petits, les Ormes pour les moyens, la Sapiniere pour les grands) les observations qu'il aurait prefere entendre pour lui seule.Mais il y avait des prix pour chacun et les drames heureusement n'etaient pas tres graves. Nous relativisions en ouvrant le journal dont les nouvelles nous bouleversaient chaque fois meme si nous nous sentions a l'abri et privilegies de vivre en Suisse dans un pays en paix.
C'est la nuit que nous pensions le plus a la guerre. Nous devions respecter les consignes de a l'obscurcissement a qui etaient severes en Suisse. Aucun filet de lumiere ne devait etre perdu de l'exterieur. Nos salles d'etudes, nos dortoirs et nos chambres individuelles avaient de grands rideaux noirs devant chaque fenetre qu'il fallait tirer des la fin du jour pour ne pas donner d'indications aux avions qui, par centaines et peut-etre par milliers survolaient le pays pour aller bombarder les grandes villes d'Italie. Nous entendions de notre lit le vrombissement des moteurs et nous pensions aux destructions et aux souffrances qu'allaient endurer les populations de cette nation qui avait envahi la France, mais qui etait aussi celle de notre pape Pie XII. Une ou deux heures plus tard, nous entendions revenir les avions allies. Le bruit n'etait plus le meme, car ils avaient deverse leurs bombes.
Les annees du baccalaureat 1944 (Premiere) et 1945 (Philosophie) ont coincide pour moi avec celles de l'avance des armees alliees : le debarquement en Normandie le 6 juin 1944, la liberation de Paris le 24 aout, celle de Strasbourg le 25 novembre. Il n'etait pas question pour nous de nous rendre a Grenoble pour y passer le bac. Pendant ces semaines dramatiques, une session de l' Acadmie de Grenoble fut organisee specialement a Lausanne pour les examens. Ils eurent lieu pour nous l'Hotel Mirabeau, et heureusement tout se passa bien. L'annee de philosophie se termina deux mois apres la capitulation des nazis et le suicide de Hitler dans les ruines fumantes de Berlin. Nous reemes quelques mois plus tard notre dipleme de baccalaureat signe par Edmond Michelet, le ministre de l'education nationale du General de Gaulle. Nos annees de college etaient terminees. La France que nous aimions etait a reconstruire, de meme que l'Europe entiere, dont une moitie, asservie par l'URSS n'avait fait que passer d'une occupation a une autre. L'ideal de justice, de liberte, de generosite, que nos maetres nous avaient inculque pendant les annees de guerre, nous serait bien necessaire pour faire face a la situation dramatique d'un monde divise entre les vainqueurs du national-socialisme et pour nous permettre de nous engager nous aussi en faveur d'une paix juste, respectant les droits de tous les humains et les droits de tous les pays, petits et grands. Je garde de ces sept annees d'etude un souvenir profond et tres reconnaissant envers tous ces educateurs marianistes, religieux ou laecs, qui ont consacre leur vie entiere a la formation des garnements que nous etions tous, s'efforeant de nous preparer a la vie tout en nous faisant confiance afin de faire de nous des hommes responsables et fideles.
Jean-Baptiste de Weck (1939-1945)
FRIBOURG
jean-baptiste.de.weck@bluewin.ch
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Guy Allegre was kind enough to send my some digital images that were important to him and that he remembers from his time (1940s) at Villa St.-Jean Collège Français.
It seems that some of the first images were from an earlier web site that François Ronsin was involved in (translating the English Wikepedia Page),
with some of the text written by Jean-Baptiste de Weck (actually see L'album de photos de Jean-Baptiste de Weck in the paragraph above to see original text and photos) . So thanks also goes out to both François and Jean-Baptiste.
1940 - 1941 | |
Classe de 7ème et 8ème en 1942.Prof Mr Hasler |
Classe de 6ème en 1942.Prof Mr Charpentier |
Classe de 5ème en 1941 Prof Mr Grimaud |
Classe de 5ème en 1942.Prof Mr Grimaud |
Classe de 4ème en 1943 Prof l'abbé Tisserand | |
Photo de tous les élèves et professeurs qui doit dater de 1944 ou 1945 |
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Voici la liste des eleves qui on fait, le 10 mai, leur Profession de foi (f), ont reeu la Confirmation (c) ou ont renouvele (r) :
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