Késsinnimek - Roots - RacinesMon Petit Coin by Norm Léveillée
Version française
Since my uncle Gérard participated actively in the Battle of the Bulge, I decided to visit the Ardennes, and specifically Bastogne during the summer of 1958. I promised my uncle that I would take pictures of the places where he had been, but especially Bastogne where he had fought. And I did just that. He appreciated seeing these photos.
An experience that I will never forget happend to me while I was visiting Bastogne. Three of us arrived on our Maico motorcycles (150cc) into town late Saturday night, on our way back to our colleage in Louvain, Belgium. Just before at the outskirts of Bastogne, my motorcyle started skipping - so much so that I didn't think that I would make it into the center of town. However, I did manage to arrive at a small restaurant-hotel, some of the way by pushing the dead cycle. I inquired if there were any garages or mechanics in town. I was directed to a Monsieur Degraide's Garage at the edge of town. However, when I wheeled my cycle to the Garage, I discovered that it was closed for the weekend. We were due back to our college by Monday afternoon. What would I do?
I took a chance by knocking on the door of the house right next to the Garage Degraide. A man answered and I asked him in French if he could repair my cycle. He indicated that he could, but it would have to be on Tuesday "Pas avant mardi. C'est une fête lundi!" And Monday was a holiday. Great! I turned to my two friends and in English asked them what could we do about this problem.
Monsieur Degraide asked me in French if I were American "Vous êtes américain?". I answered that I was. "In that case", he responded in French, "I will look at your motocycle tomorrow after the Sunday High Mass at 11h00am". He then invited us into his home for supper. He introduced us to his wife. I gathered both were in their late 50's.
He proceeded to explain to us during our meal why he was going to open his shop for us on Sunday. It appears that during the Battle of the Bulge, an American soldier saved his life. He promised himself that if ever he could help an American in distress, he would do it without reservation. I happened to be the first American that he met who needed help. Needless to say, I was very grateful for his offer. As we bid them "merci bien et bonne nuit" - thank you and good night, he told me to leave my cycle there and to return Sunday evening, again for supper and also to retrieve my motorcyle. The cycle would be fixed by then, he promised.
The next evening, we returned to the Degraide home for supper. My motorcyle was there waiting for me in the yard. Monsieur Degraide told me to give it a kick and try it out. It started immediately and purred like it was supposed to. He invited us into his home again for supper. I asked him how much I owed him. He said "not a sou" - not one centime! It was the least that he could do for an American in gratitude for what another American had done for him some fourteen years before. I often wondered if my uncle Gérard might have been that American!
I shall never forget that Belgian man and his wife. Later, I wrote him a thank you letter. I never received a response. Either, he did not get the letter or he was no longer living there. I never had the chance to return to Bastogne to see what had happened to my benefactor. I had forgotten about that weekend in September 1958 until I read the two articles about the Battle of the Bulge in the Ardennes. This brought back to my mind a very vivid and happy event.
Késsinnimek - Roots - Racines
Copyright © 2003 & 2004 Norm Léveillée
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Created 1 Feb 2003