A short 35 mile trip brought us to our destination. Oradour-sur-Glane, was in 1944, a thriving community with restaurants, trolley and train station and has a sad and tragic history relating to WWII. On the 10th of June, 1944, German troops began to filter into the town. The residents did not know what this meant and had not been touched by the war up to this point. They were hospitable and tried to be helpful to the Germans but were quickly rebuffed. Women and children were separated into one group and herded into the church. The men were put into several groups and locked up in large warehouses in the town. At that point no one knew what was going to happen. Visitors to the town were stopped at the towns edge and if they lived there were allowed to pass. If not the were turned back. At an appointed time and what was to be the key signal, a hand grenade was tossed into the church. The explosion was the common signal to begin the massacre. Machine guns had been placed around the warehouses and the church and at the sound of the explosion, all guns opened fire. In addition, the church was set on fire. Only a handful of people survived that day to tell their tale. All the rest of the residents of the town were killed.
The attack was carried out by soldiers of the Der Führer Regiment of the 2nd Waffen-SS Panzer Division Das Reich. On that day they killed a total of 642 men, women and children without giving any reasons for their actions. The town was then looted and every building, set on fire. To this day there is no universally accepted explanation for the massacre. 
The French decided to leave the town exactly as it was left by the Germans in June of 1944 and the entire town is a memorial to this day as to what happened there. It is free to be visited. I had heard the story several times but was not prepared for what I saw there. It had been a beautiful and thriving town. Not a small village, it encompasses many square blocks of what is left of once thriving businesses. Shops of every kind were present and several corner restaurants existed for the pleasure of the residents. The town had a rail line for an electric city trolley and a rail station for local trains that came through the town from outside the region. Many cars were present indicating a thriving and well off community. All of this came to an abrupt end on June 10th, 1944.
The car to the left was the village doctor's.
The church bell was melted into a pile of bronze in the church.
Roy and I had parked our bikes in a parking area and went through a central access area. It opened directly into the town. As we walked the streets we could see the devastation that had occurred. Every street and every building had evidence of great destruction.
Roy and I had parked our bikes in a parking area and went through a central access area. It opened directly into the town. As we walked the streets we could see the devastation that had occurred. Every street and every building had evidence of great destruction.
The church where all the women and children died.
When we had had enough, we headed back to camp where John was to prepare a bar-b-que. Roy and myself plus one man and wife who were bikers but had traveled in a camper van were presented at the picnic table with wine, beer, hamburgers and sausages cooked on the grill. After a long day, it was really tasty and especially after our light meals earlier in the week. Later in the evening, John invited us all into his house and showed it off. Many antiquities were from local sales which he and his wife loved to attend. We had coffee and good conversation, swapping stories but mainly listening to John’s tales which were endless and fascinating. We were all growing really tired but it was hard to say good night.
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