His grandfather was killed by the British at Mers-el-Kébir. Interview with Pascal Landure-Chosse
I was so naïve.
About two months ago, when I was tracking down photographs for my book, I found the picture below on the website of the Amicale des Anciens Marins de Mers-el-Kébir et des Familles des Victimes (Association of Former Sailors of Mers-el-Kébir and Families of the Victims). The photo shows French warships anchored in the harbor at Mers-el-Kébir (in Algeria) a short time before the Royal Navy launched the attack that is at the core of my book. I left a message on the site’s Contact page, asking permission to use the photograph.
It should have dawned on me that the association might not be enthusiastic about the use of one of their photos in an English-language book by an unknown American author about an event in which more than 1,200 Frenchmen were killed. An email from Pascal Landure-Chosse, the association’s secretary general arrived a couple of days after I left my message, In his kind note, Pascal mentioned that they were “entirely prepared to authorize” my publication of this photograph, but he first wished to confirm the nature of my work. He added: “we have a duty to avoid any collaboration in works which would be too “partisan” and would lack the necessary objectivity to deal with a tragedy which finds its true foundations both in the historical context of the time and in the political context of Great Britain and particularly in that of Sir Winston Churchill at this period.”
A very cordial exchange of emails followed. Pascal accepted my assurance that my book provides a balanced account of the clash between the French and British Navies, and granted permission to use this photograph. As the result of our ongoing exchange of emails and the additional time I spent on the association’s website, I learned about plans for a memorial to the French seamen who were lilled at Mers-el-Kébir. I also learned that Pascal’s grandfather was one of the French seamen who died in the attack.
I wanted to learn more about Pascal’s grandfather, and also thought it would be enlightening to gain Pascal’s insights on the attack, the Royal Navy (one ship in particular), Winston Churchill, as well as other personalities and elements of this story, including lessons for future generations. When I proposed an interview, Pascal accepted right away. I sent Pascal an email with seven questions. His verbatim replies appear below. (Pascal indulges me in multiple ways. I can read French, but am unable to write or converse in French. My emails are always in English. Pascal writes his in French, but often includes English translations).
This has been a profoundly interesting experience. I hope you enjoy Pascal Landure-Chosse’s insights and experiences, and are as enlightened and moved by them as I am.
Your biographical sketch on the Association’s website mentions that Marcel Chosse – your grandfather – was killed at Mers-el-Kébir. What can you tell us about your grandfather?
My grandfather, Marcel Chosse, was born in July 1913 in Saint-Denis, near Paris. His parents, both Bretons and originally from the same village in Brittany, had hoped to find better days by leaving their native land. But the First World War broke out in 1914. My grandfather and his mother moved to Louargat in the Côtes-d'Armor region. Marcel was three years old when his father, Alexis, was killed in the trenches near Reims in 1916. Marcel enlisted in the French Navy in 1929 and chose the specialty of “boatswain.” Among his assignments was the “Jeanne d’Arc” where he embarked from 1932 to 1934 during a world tour that took him to many legendary cities, including San Francisco and New York. He married my grandmother, Christiane, in 1935, and their union produced three children. A hard worker, he obtained the “higher certificate” for his boatswain’s specialty in 1939, allowing him to take command of small units. He thus became the commander of the tug ARMEN (“the stone” in Breton – the name of a lighthouse at the tip of Brittany) and was involved in the events of Mers-el-Kébir on July 3, 1940.
Under the orders of Admiral Gensoul and the battleship commanders, and in the event of their sailing, he positioned his tug aft of the battleships Strasbourg and Bretagne, a few meters from the north jetty of the port on July 3, 1940.
The first British salvos struck the jetty, and my grandfather was hit by shards of concrete while he was on the top deck of the tugboat to have a bird’s eye view of what was really happening outside the port. Quickly taken to Baudens Hospital in Oran, he was declared dead on July 3 in the documents of the French Navy, but some surviving sailors would later say that he died on July 6. This is just an anecdote, but my mother, who always believed that he died on July 6, also died on July 6, as if she had fought her cancer to the bitter end to let go on the anniversary of her beloved father’s death.
B. Whiteside note: In the photograph at the top of this email, the five ships in the center of the picture – anchored at the jetty (or breakwater) – are the battleships Dunkerque, Provence, Strasbourg, and Bretagne, along with the seaplane tender Commandante Teste. As mentioned above, Marcel Chosse’s tugboat was positioned near the Strasbourg and the Bretagne, the third and fourth ships from the left. The breakwater is important too, because shards of its concrete and stone killed Marcel Chosse, as well as men on other ships when it was blasted by British shells. Every account that I’ve ever read about the attack at Mers-el-Kébir (including mine) tells the stories of the French battleships and destroyers that were targeted. The victims on smaller ships, such as the Armen, on which Marcel Chosse served, deserve to be remembered as well.
HMS Hood was the British flagship at Mers-el-Kébir, and the ship that concentrated its fire on the Dunkerque. Your website includes a link to the HMS Hood Association. What is the origin and the nature of your Association’s relationship with the Hood Association?
Since its creation in 1984, our association’s primary goal has been to honor the memory of the victims of the Mers-el-Kébir tragedy while avoiding rewriting history or fostering stupid hatred toward the British sailors who participated in the tragedy. It was during a trip to Portsmouth in 2005 that our former president, Mr. Hervé Grall (son of mechanical engineer Xavier Grall, a victim of the Dunkerque disaster) made contact with Mr. Ted Briggs, then president of the HMS Hood Association, himself on board HMS Hood at the time of the tragedy and one of the survivors of the sinking of the battleship by the BISMARCK in 1941. This gesture was part of this same shared desire for reconciliation, and was followed on July 3, 2006 by the visit to Brest of a delegation composed of Sir John Holmes, Ambassador of the United Kingdom, the naval attaché, Captain Butler, and former sailors from the Hood Association, several of whom had been on board the ship in July 1940.
In 2007, President Hervé Grall and André Jaffré, a survivor of the battleship Bretagne, accepted the invitation of the HMS HOOD Association for the traditional commemoration of the sinking of HMS Hood. In 2010, for the 70th Anniversary in Brest, the ceremonies were marked by the presence of British Ambassador Sir Peter Westmacott, French civil (Prefect of Finistère) and military (Maritime Prefect of the Atlantic) authorities, a delegation from the HMS Hood Veterans Association, and British veterans.
Undoubtedly, our association owes much to this relationship with the members of the HMS Hood Association. Following the 2010 ceremonies and the presence of British officials, the 75th Anniversary was marked for the first time by the presence of a member of the French government, the Secretary of State for Veterans Jean-Marc Todeschini, representing the Minister of Defense, on July 2 in Brest.
Since then, exchanges between the two associations have continued, with deep mutual respect.
B. Whiteside note: This is Pascal Landure-Chosse, along with Commander Keith Evans, a veteran of HMS Hood, who died in 2018. Pascal mentioned to me that this photo is very important to him, and also shared: “I will never forget the emotion of this man whose life, he told me, was terribly marked by this tragedy. This photo was taken during the 75th Anniversary at the Kerfautras Cemetery in Brest on July 2, 2015.”
Ted Briggs, who Pascal mentions, appears in my book in several different contexts.
The memorial to the victims at Mers-el-Kébir is clearly a project that is dear to your heart. Please share how this project began, the challenges you had to overcome, and the plans for your ceremony on July 5 of this year.
In the years following the tragedy of Mers-el-Kébir, the “Souvenir Francaise” (an organization dedicated to preserving the memory of the victims of various conflicts) erected a monument in the Mers-el-Kébir cemetery inscribed with the names of the victims known at the time. After a new period of diplomatic tensions between France and Algeria, one of our members noted, in 2005, further desecration of the cemetery. The crosses on the graves had been broken, bones had been removed from the ossuary, and the nameplates bearing the victims’ names had been completely destroyed. As a result, there were no longer any monuments, either in Algeria or in France, bearing the names of the victims. Our former president, Mr. Hervé Grall, had therefore put forward the idea of erecting a monument in Brest which would contain the names of all the identified victims of the tragedy, but after years of great investment in the cause of the victims, Mr. Grall decided in 2017 to resign from his position as president. Mr. Jean-Aristide Brument and I were then elected, respectively to the positions of president and secretary general, and it seemed obvious to us to continue on this path.
Quickly the city of Brest, through its mayor Mr. François Cuillandre, gave its support to the project which was initially to take place in the city center of Brest. In 2019, after nearly two years of work, the architect of the buildings of France whose role is to authorize (or not) the start of work, informed us of his rejection of the project due to the proximity of a wall from the time of Vauban (engineer, architect of King Louis XIV). We had to start from scratch. Brest City Hall quickly offered us a plot of land located in the west of the city, overlooking the Brest Channel. We were very satisfied with this proposal, the location being symbolic given that many of the ships and sailors present during the tragedy of Mers-el-Kébir had passed through this spot when the majority of the fleet left Brest in April 1940 to seek refuge in British or North African ports.
The memorial project required the support of various levels of the French government, from the mayor of Brest to the presidency of the French Republic. It is therefore obvious that the project became dependent on each election, with the risk that yesterday’s supporters would no longer be in their positions tomorrow.
B. Whiteside note: July 3, 2025 will be the 85th anniversary of the British attack on French ships at Mers-el-Kébir. The inauguration of the memorial to the men who died is scheduled for Saturday, July 5 in Brest.
You told me that even after 85 years there is still some uncertainty about the true number of French victims. Published figures have ranged from 1,250 to 1,312. After a two-year in-depth study, you established a list of 1,257 certified victims. What can you tell us about your study?
To address this topic, it is necessary to acknowledge that, unfortunately, it will never be possible to establish an exhaustive list of the victims of the Mers-el-Kébir tragedy.
There are several reasons for this, the main one being that nearly 80% of the victims belonged to the battleship Bretagne. However, the ship sank with the “crew list” (a crew log regularly updated on ships) unavailable. Therefore, the precise number and identity of all the sailors on board on July 3 are unknown.
Many bodies could not be identified. On the evening of July 3, as in the case of July 6, the survivors were grouped by ship, but the wounded were sent to Baudens Hospital or to ships in the port of Oran. The dead were grouped together but sometimes unidentifiable. Clearly, conducting a roll call of crew members by ship was not feasible, and while some casualty lists were drawn up by unit commanders, such as that of Commander Le Pivain of the Bretagne, they were incomplete and sometimes included sailors who were later proven to have survived the attacks.
Very soon after its creation, the association began compiling a casualty list. To do this, it had access to various documents: the judgments drawn up by the Toulon court in 1941, the French Navy list after the Bretagne’s refloating, dated 1954, the lists of the 2nd Squadron’s headquarters, publications in the Official Journals of the French Republic, lists of names of those “Mort pour la France” (those who died for France) whose names appear on war memorials in French towns and villages, and various other archival documents. As part of the memorial, out of respect for the victims, we had to establish a list that was both as precise and exhaustive as possible, that is to say, a list of victims whose death during the tragedy could be perfectly “certified” and would include the exact spelling of each name, each first name or series of first names.
Beyond this basic work, it was also a question of collecting as much information as possible on these victims: their serial numbers, their ranks and specialties, their dates and places of birth, etc. In this quest, the connection of Mr. Marc Bellizit, head of the “Conservatoire des Uniformes de la Marine,” who had served in the French Navy, was of great help thanks to the extensive network he has with various organizations, particularly with the various units of the “Service Historique de la Défense” (SHD). We were thus able to establish the presence of numerous duplicates (Example: “Le Scouarnec” and ”Scouarnec” were one and the same sailor, etc.), correct the spelling of a large number of names by collecting almost all of the sailors’ birth certificates, and certify their real first names. Some names were either permanently removed from the list, establishing after extensive research that they had survived the tragedy, or were removed from the list because there was too much doubt about their identity and presence in Mers-el-Kébir. In total, all types of corrections combined, more than 300 corrections were made to our initial list.
In addition to these latter cases, which remain under investigation, we have been working for several months to identify sailors injured during the tragedy or who may have contracted diseases following the ingestion of fuel oil in the port of Mers-el-Kébir, and who died in the months or even years that followed. For this purpose, we have the list of all sailors (nearly 14,000) who died for France since 1940, drawn up by the “Historical Defense Service” in Vincennes (near Paris), a list which, among other information, includes their units and the cause of their death.
B. Whiteside note: Pascal mentions July 3 and July 6, 1940. After attacking multiple French ships on July 3, the Royal Navy made a follow-up attack on the partially disabled Dunkerque on the morning of July 6.
Winston Churchill was vilified in France after the attacks of July 3 and July 6, 1940. However, he also walked down the Champs-Élysées at the side of Charles de Gaulle on November 11, 1944 after the liberation of France. What is your view of Churchill’s legacy in general, and in relation to France?
This descent down the Champs-Élysées in 1944 fits perfectly with the French government’s desire at the time to quickly reestablish strong and lasting ties with Great Britain, for both economic and obvious geopolitical reasons. Europe had to be rebuilt, and Great Britain and France were its two pillars.
In my opinion, Churchill’s “overall” legacy is that of a hardliner who knew how to harness fierce willpower, opportunism, and self-heroism to unite the British people, at least spiritually, around his figure. The sole victor of old Europe, he thus became, along with General de Gaulle, the architect of its renewal.
Churchill’s legacy in relation to France is certainly more complicated to define. After the tragedy of Mers-el-Kébir, the collaborationist Vichy government exploited the situation with a series of communiqués and publications, denouncing the crime committed by its former ally, in order to better “sell” its collaboration with Nazi Germany to the French people. In fact, a great sense of mistrust toward the British was born in the minds of many French people. Without Mers-el-Kébir, many more French people would have joined de Gaulle in England, but without Churchill, de Gaulle would never have made his appeal of June 18! Quite a paradox!
But the legacy I wish to discuss, the only one relevant in the context of the victims and their families, is the heavy price they inherited. In the chaos and disinformation of the time and since, it then became necessary to take a new direction with the British. The Mers-el-Kébir affair quickly became a subject to be avoided and sank into a taboo maintained by almost all political leaders, a taboo which seems to have slowly been lifted in recent years and mainly since the 75th Anniversary of the tragedy. In the weeks following this tragedy, families would experience two opposing types of reactions. While in the villages where many Breton sailors came from (I mention “Breton sailors” because I live near Brest – they alone represent about 60% of all victims), understanding and solidarity were the first order of the day; things were different in the cities, where some wives lost their jobs simply because their husbands were considered “collaborators,” with public opinion unaware, or unwilling to know, that the Vichy government was not established until July 10, 1940.
Even in the cities, I received several testimonies of parents forbidding their children from talking to and playing with the children of the victims of the tragedy. Churchill’s legacy is also this: the double punishment imposed on mothers, widows, and children of not only having lost a loved one but also of being rejected from their social microcosm, inducing, for these orphans, including my mother, the difficulty of building themselves as individuals in the absence of answers to their questions and crushed by the silent blanket of taboo.
B. Whiteside note: The “appeal of June 18” that Pascal mentions was the first speech on the BBC by General Charles de Gaulle after he arrived in London with the blessing of Winston Churchill in June 1940. In the eyes of many, de Gaulle’s address was the opening act of the French Resistance. He spoke with eloquent defiance: “Must hope disappear? Is this defeat definite? No, it is not!” You can read the transcript of this four-minute speech here.
What is your opinion on the legacies of Admiral Darlan and Admiral Gensoul?
The subject is so vast that to answer this question, I will speak solely from the perspective of our association and that of the mothers, widows, and children of the victims and survivors with whom I spoke.
In the specific context of Mers-el-Kébir, Admiral Darlan lived up to his status as a general officer. On several occasions, he gave his word as an officer that the French Navy would never fall into the hands of Nazi Germany, and the scuttling of the fleet in 1942 proved him right. The events of Mers-el-Kébir gave rise to a clear Anglophobia that reduced his exchanges with the British to almost nothing, but he reminded them of his dismay at not having been listened to when he gave them his word as an officer.
The legacy of Darlan that I wish to discuss is that which stems from the presence of his remains in the Mers-el-Kébir cemetery, where he had wished to rest. The Association of Former Sailors of Mers-el-Kébir and the Families of the Victims has consistently demanded, in accordance with the purpose of its statutes, the return of the victims’ remains to mainland France. Since the late 1980s, representatives of successive governments have opposed this return, but this desire, from our perspective, is hampered by the presence in Mers-el-Kébir of the remains of Admiral Darlan, who later became one of the major players in the collaboration with Germany. The association has often felt hostage to a painful past.
One thing is certain: the shadow of Darlan, the “collaborator” will long hang over the Mers-el-Kébir affair!
Admiral Gensoul’s decisions and actions have been criticized by many writers and some officers present at Mers-el-Kébir. His defenders were fewer in number, although the view of this man seems more favorable today. The association has always very clearly expressed its desire not to rewrite history, not to judge the actions of a man, especially an Admiral Commander-in-Chief, who had to try in a few hours to find the best solution, both for the honor of the flag, for his ships, and for his men, in a context made particularly difficult by the ongoing move of the French government in Vichy and the resulting slowness in responding to his messages to the Admiralty.
For many families, also poorly informed about the complexity of the situation in the theater of operations, Gensoul was guilty, he should have done everything possible to prevent the massacre of their sailors. A reaction as primitive as it is humane and understanding! Within the Navy, the tone was quickly set by Admiral Darlan, who, in a more or less indirect manner, placed the responsibility for this tragedy squarely on Admiral Gensoul’s shoulders and did not deem it necessary to hear his report or grant him the slightest interview. Despite his supporters, the legacy of disgrace and the taboo mentioned above is very real in the post-war French Navy and has long persisted. I left the French Navy in 2001 after twenty years of service. When, on several occasions, I wanted to discuss the subject of Mers-el-Kébir, my interlocutors quickly made it clear that they did not wish to comment on the matter. This is obviously not only Gensoul’s legacy, but also that of a political-military affair that will certainly remain one of the most complex, delicate, and uncomfortable that France has ever known.
B. Whiteside note: Admiral of the Fleet Jean Louis Xavier François Darlan was the absolute leader of the French Navy in 1940. Admiral Marcel-Bruno Gensoul led France’s Force de Raid at Mers-el-Kébir. Admirals Darlan and Gensoul play critical roles in my book.
What would you like your grandchildren and my grandchildren to remember about July 3 and July 6, 1940?
I would like them to first and foremost retain the idea that it is necessary to know how to oppose the rise of all extremes, of all forms of dictatorship. Indeed, the starting point of the drama of Mers-el-Kébir lies not in the particular context that led to Churchill’s decision to open fire on the French fleet, but in the madness of a dictator, Adolf Hitler, the only person truly responsible for all the bloodshed of that period. Secondly, I would like my grandchildren to be proud of the sacrifice of these sailors, a sacrifice that most certainly prevented large-scale reprisals against the people of France, since the adoption of even one of the conditions of the unacceptable British ultimatum would almost certainly have been considered by Nazi Germany as a breach of the armistice of June 22, 1940.
From a more general perspective, I would like future generations to be convinced to always prioritize dialogue before using force, to be persuaded that a final solution should only be considered once all options have been considered and debated: this was not the case at Mers-el-Kébir. I would like our grandchildren, those among them who will be the major players of tomorrow, to keep in mind the impact of a conflict on families of a loved one, fully aware of the emotional and psychological, and economic impact it engenders. Let us know how to put humanity back in its rightful place because it is people who make nations and not nations who make people.
B. Whiteside Epilogue: As it turns out, the photograph at the top of this email will not appear in my book. I was so excited by its content that I paid no attention to its resolution. Unfortunately, this particular photo would not reproduce well in a printed book. As mentioned above, there will be a ceremony in Brest on July 5th to officially open the memorial to the men who died at Mers-el-Kébir. Pascal has invited me to attend.
Thanks for reading,
Bill
PS: If you would like to learn more about the Association of Former Sailors of Mers-el-Kébir and Families of the vlctims, here are links to their website (which is an abundant source of information, stories, and videos) and their Facebook page:
https://www.ledrame-merselkebir.fr/
https://www.facebook.com/pplandure/