Louba gives Earnest his nightly hug
"Le Masgelier" (Creuse) France. Our beloved Louba giving Ernest his nightly hug and kiss—a most important ritual for a motherless little boy.

The little ones—"les petits"—slept in a dormitory set up under the eaves of the castle.

Every night, one of the attendants, Louba, read to us from the interminable "The Good Earth" by Pearl Buck. One of the messages was that we did not know what hardship was, compared to the travails of the average Chinese peasant.

Ernest most remembers Louba's warmth. At bedtime she came by and hugged and gave each one a kiss. Ernest was one of her favorites and adored her.

For my part, the various traumas brought about a stutter and bed wetting. Since no one ever made a comment, I assume that I was not the only one who had this embarassing problem.


Two men in uniform took an interest in the Moritz brothers and came to the children's home in order to "interview" the two boys. They wanted to know where our parents were—which we, of course, did not know.

Rumor had it that a group of children were to leave for the port city of Marseille, and from there by boat to "Amerika," but it turned out that we did not qualify as the whereabouts of our parents were crucial. The matter became moot as no emigration took place at this time.

The person in charge of the children's home at "Le Masgelier," Mr. Jacques Bloch together with his chauffeur-cum-assistant Dr. Elisé (Jean) Cogan, temporarily moved us to a children's home in the middle of Limoges, until a permanent and secure place of hiding could be arranged.

Badly forged identity papers and the all-important ration cards (without which one could not buy food) were arranged in the names of Alfred and Ernest MAURICET, newly designated as French citizens born of French parents in Ste. Lizaigne (Indre).

Thanks to the efforts of our former schoolteachers in Ste. Lizaigne, we both had become proficient, in a short time, in written and oral French; no one ever took us for anything other than what our false papers said we were—two French kids who had become separated from their parents.