Riders in Resistance and Collaboration

The war scattered Tour riders across a moral landscape as challenging as any mountain pass. Some chose resistance, others collaboration, many simply tried to survive. Their choices revealed character in ways that racing never could, creating heroes and villains whose actions transcended sport.

Gino Bartali: The Secret Courier

Gino Bartali, the Italian champion who had dominated the 1938 Tour, became one of cycling's greatest heroes—though his full story wouldn't emerge for decades. Using his training rides as cover, Bartali smuggled forged documents hidden in his bicycle frame, helping save hundreds of Italian Jews from deportation. When stopped by German or Italian patrols, his fame provided protection. "I'm training," he would say, and usually that sufficed.

Bartali also hid a Jewish family in his cellar, risking his life and career. His actions remained secret until long after his death—he refused to speak of them, saying, "The good is done, but it is not said." Only when researchers uncovered documentary evidence did his heroism become known. In 2013, Yad Vashem recognized him as Righteous Among the Nations, honoring a champion whose greatest victory came off the bicycle.

The Collaborators' Shame

Not all riders chose heroism. Some, motivated by ideology, opportunism, or fear, collaborated with occupying forces. They raced in propaganda events, appeared in Nazi newsreels, or worse. Their names, once celebrated, became shameful whispers in cycling circles. After liberation, many faced justice—banned from racing, imprisoned, or forced into exile.

The complexity of survival under occupation makes simple judgments difficult. Some riders who appeared to collaborate were secretly aiding resistance networks. Others who claimed resistance connections had merely been opportunistic. The Tour's post-war revival would have to navigate these moral complexities, deciding who deserved redemption and who remained beyond forgiveness.