When I was 9 years old my father was transferred to Paris in December of 1953. The arrival of thousands of US dependents into post WWII Europe was well under way but still a bit chaotic. No schools were built yet in Paris, so I was in an elementary and high school in an old downtown building not far from the Bois de Boulogne. Infrastructure In France was still partially collapsed and the beautiful Paris buildings seemed grim. But it was Christmas, and teachers did what teachers do, and pulled off the miracle of a Christmas concert. I don’t think I had ever been to a concert before in my life. This was the first time I heard the 12 Days of Christmas, with all the accompanying hand movements and it was so unexpected, funny and fresh for me. Completely delighted.
I’m sure they performed most of the favorite Christmas carols. Then the auditorium became silent, suddenly a trumpet sounded, every person rose to their feet, and I heard the Hallelujah Chorus from Handel’s Messiah for the first time.
I can’t even write this without goosebumps and a tear or two. Such a powerful and unforgettable experience.
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They were the best educational years of my life. All of the teachers were excellent. I remember attending 5th grade at the dependents school in Garsches, just outside of Paris. We lived in Meudon, just outside of Paris. My father was an American Army officer attending the Ecole Militaire just in back of the Eiffel Tower. The military bus would pick us up early and then circle around the city picking up other students. 1957 was the beginning of the Algerian uprisings and our bus had thick cross mesh covers on the bus windows and we had 2 armed guards on the bus. We had to stop frequently at major rond-points (roundabouts) because the French military had barricades and machine gun placements at those points. Frequently, we would get to school and within an hour or 2 be back on the bus homeward bound because of bomb threats at the school. When we were stationed at La Rochelle for 3 years we lived in Aytre housing for a year then on the economy in La Rochelle for the remaining years until we returned stateside in 1961. My father was assigned to the transportation battalion in La Rochelle. I remember that the high school students went to Poitiers during the week and returned home to LaRochelle during the weekend.
I concur heartily, being a Brat was the best, most educational period of my life. Don’t think I’ve ever really adjusted to civilian life!
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When I was 9 years old my father was transferred to Paris in December of 1953. The arrival of thousands of US dependents into post WWII Europe was well under way but still a bit chaotic. No schools were built yet in Paris, so I was in an elementary and high school in an old downtown building not far from the Bois de Boulogne. Infrastructure In France was still partially collapsed and the beautiful Paris buildings seemed grim. But it was Christmas, and teachers did what teachers do, and pulled off the miracle of a Christmas concert. I don’t think I had ever been to a concert before in my life. This was the first time I heard the 12 Days of Christmas, with all the accompanying hand movements and it was so unexpected, funny and fresh for me. Completely delighted.
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