Pierre Brunaud entered the world on 10 March 1944, born in Argenton-sur-Creuse beside the river that gave the town its name. Three months later, that calm was shattered. On 9 June, while Pierre was still an infant in his mother’s arms, a brutal act was about to unfold in this normally tranquil town.

That evening, German troops swept into Argenton, killing men indiscriminately. Men were dragged into the streets, houses were looted and burned, and gunshots echoed through the town. Sixty-six people would be martyred. In Pierre’s own home, doors were smashed open as soldiers searched for resistance fighters, while his family hid silently in the cellar.

Pierre’s father, a veteran of the First World War, was seized with around 150 other men and marched away as a hostage. Fear spread through every street. No one knew who would return. Among those caught in the chaos was Jean-Marie Cubel, an Alsatian lodger who spoke German. His courage saved many lives. When officers sorted the prisoners the next morning, Cubel spoke for Pierre’s father and others, claiming them as friends or former students. Many were released. Thirteen were not.

Taken to Limoges, they were executed in a quarry, victims of the Das Reich division as it carved a path of terror through France on its way to Normandy. Argenton had become one more name in a chain of atrocities that included Oradour-sur-Glane, Tulle and Monpezat de Quercy.

Pierre’s memories were inherited through the voices of survivors. He insists the blame lies not with the resistance, but with those who arrived in the town with orders to show no mercy