Monday, July 14, 2008


When I tell the story of my life to journalists or on television, what surprises people the most is my atypical path.
In short: Son of a “pied-noir” (French colonial born in Algeria) with few diplomas, I worked as a bank employee, lumberjack, DJ, before starting a restaurant and wine store in Saint Emilion.

I rarely speak about my military service which I volunteered for in the paratroopers. Following a military training in Poitiers in 1969 and my military service, which only lasted 12 months, starting in April 1970; I was able to jump before and during my service in the 35th artillery regiment of paratroopers in Tarbes.
Besides trying to conquer my fear jumping from a plane with a parachute in my back, I was assigned as a military nurse (me, who is always afraid of diseases).
I jumped from a Transal plane and even a Noratlas less than 10 times. I was glad to reach the ground in one piece and still alive. The limit from being masochistic. The hardest for me being the marches and sport. Still, I kept a very good memory of Tarbes and had a good time, taking full advantage of the lust for life we had at that time.

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