From Occupation to Fascination

My grandfather worked for the British Diplomatic Service for many years and in many different locales. His first posting was in Iraq starting in 1935, and my father still gets a kick out of the look on people's faces when he tells them he was born in Baghdad. In 1955, after stops in Turkey and Spain, Gramps took a final posting in the Paris Embassy at the urging of his French-born second wife. He would stay there until retirement, but only a short time after he began working in Paris he decided he wanted to get away from the city.

He and my step-grandmother purchased a house in Les Andelys, a very old-world village town on the River Seine and walking distance from the ruins of King Richard the Lion Heart's Chateau Gaillard. The house was massive, a former seat of the local aristocracy when it was built in the mid-to-late 19th century and perfectly located at the front of the rue with the river running right next to it. When I first visited at eleven years of age, the size and old character of the place was like nothing I'd seen before and it made quite an impression on me. That impression was doubled when my grandfather told me of his abode's past; more specifically, that it had been the local Nazi stronghouse during the occupation of WWII.

Sometime during the year 1940, after the Maginot line experiment had failed hopelessly and the Germans had waltzed into France with ease, the Nazis took steps to fortify their hold on the country by establishing strongpoints throughout rural areas. As Les Andelys was only an hour or so from Paris, it was likely one of the first to be chosen as such as it is the largest and most central town of several that dot the lower Seine valley. Why my grandfather's home was chosen as their command center wasn't entirely clear, but the fact that it was large, slightly more elevated than the others and at the front of the village likely made strategic sense.

My father has always been a war-buff and it was starting to wear off on me even at such a young age. When I visited the house again 5 years later, I was WWII savvy and the intrigue of the place was as intoxicating to me the same way it was for my father. The old log wood dining table was apparently the same that had been in the home since its beginning, and I couldn't help but imagine uniformed Nazi officers sitting there with me with the iron-eagle pinned caps, swastika armbands and Luger handguns resting on the table. When I was upstairs in my room I would think of an enlisted soldier on watch in his grey fatigues and that unique rear-flap helmet staring out into the cobblestone street below, single carbine at the ready.

Whenever I see richly-detailed, opulent old world home furnishings I am immediately reminded of that house and think of the strains of Edith Piaf on a gramophone while military men discuss strategy over cigarettes and brandy. Largely-scaled and with a density of form that suggests real permanence, these fixtures always speak of a time that was long before mine but, because of the war, has a fascinating quality for me.

Nowadays, those individuals that have the space and taste to incorporate such furnishings into their homes are truly fortunate. More than a few individuals, and not necessarily older folk, are in fact drawn to this vintage traditional style that was so perfectly embodied in my gramp's famous, or infamous, house in the country.

To these persons, I strongly recommend a visit to Cymax Stores to peruse their selection of Pulaski Accent Chests and other Pulaski home furnishings. These furniture pieces are simply radiant with all the charms and inherent upscale sophistication of days long since past and truthfully every time I see them I think of Les Andelys and the smell of my grandfather's cigars. The Powell Masterpiece Series Accent Chests are blessed with that same degree of rich early 20th century grandeur, and will lend that same presence to the common area of any home that can legitimately incorporate such stateliness.

I freely admit that if I could, in the future, find myself with larger and more character-laden accommodations, I would consider re-creating my take on the Les Andelys home. If I could even work but a few of these splendid pieces into the home, it would have immeasurable nostalgic value for me.

Who knows? The trip down memory lane may be so influential on me I'll grow a moustache and begin wearing a fedora every time I step out of doors.