That same year Cléo, who was in the army reserves, was called up to do military service. “With the little Bible knowledge I had,” relates Cléo, “I wrote to the authorities, explaining my now neutral position. They did not reply, so I went to the army base in Saint-Denis, on the other side of the island, to investigate the matter. An officer told me to go home but to prepare to go to prison. Hence, I prayed frequently and studied diligently. Before long, I was called back to the base. When I arrived, I asked the brother who rode there with me to wait for an hour. ‘If I’m not back by then,’ I said, ‘I will most likely not be coming back. In that case, please sell my car and give the money to my wife.’

“When I went inside, I observed officers arguing over what to do with me. After about 45 minutes, a sergeant approached me.

“‘Get out of my sight!’ he said. ‘Go home.’

“I had walked no more than 50 yards [45 m] when he called me back. In a changed tone, he said: ‘I admire you people. I heard about Jehovah’s Witnesses in France, but you are the first one I’ve met.’

In 1967, I was called up for military service. I explained that as a Christian, I could not take up arms. Nevertheless, because mine was the first case of its kind in Réunion, the authorities neither understood nor accepted my position. In fact, an officer beat me in front of about 400 recruits and then took me, now limping, to his office. He laid a uniform on his desk and told me to put it on, otherwise he would beat me again. Nearly six feet [1.8 m] tall and well built, he towered over me. Still, I mustered up courage and said, “If you hit me again, I will file an official complaint because France guarantees freedom of religion.” Fuming, he stepped toward me but restrained himself. Then he took me to the commanding officer, who said that I would do three years of hard labor in France.

I did the three years, but in Réunion. And it was not hard labor. After sentencing me, the judge invited me into his office. Smiling, he shook my hand and sympathized with me, explaining that as judge, he had to apply the law. The assistant prison director too was friendly toward me and arranged for me to work in the courtroom. He even came with me to the visitors’ area to meet my parents and a member of the congregation.

Initially, I shared a cell with 20 to 30 others, but then I was put in a cell for 2, which gave me more freedom. I requested an electric light and, amazingly, received one. Normally, electric items are forbidden because inmates might try to electrocute themselves. Thanks to my lamp, I could study the Bible and also complete a correspondence course in accounting. When I was released in 1970, a judge kindly found work for me.