Curious George Escapes the Nazis

The Seattle Post-Intelligencer's Book Patrol has an interesting history of Curious George.

From the piece...

In late 1939 the Reys began work on a sequel to Raffy and the 9 Monkeys, centered around the break-out monkey star, Fifi. He had been the smallest, and most troublesome, of the supporting cast of simians in Raffy, so naturally he was the favorite of young readers. The new volume was to be called Fifi: The Adventures of a Monkey, and was part of a multi-book contract the Reys had with Gallimard. Luckily for the soon to be endangered couple, that contract included a significant cash advance.

Adolph Hitler had already begun the Nazi expansion through Europe by the end of 1939. Czechoslovakia and Poland had been invaded and annexed by the Third Reich, and occupations of Denmark, Norway, the Netherlands, and Belgium followed within a few short months. France was at war with Germany, but antisemitism was on the rise even in Paris. In 1939 French authorities were tipped off that the Reys were using their Montmartre home as a clandestine bomb factory. A raid on the grounds turned up numerous drawings and stories concerning the exploits of Fifi, none of which could be linked to manufacturing explosives. The Reys remained free thanks to the little brown monkey who later became Curious George. It was the first time George saved his creators, but not the last.

The Reys began to suspect Paris was becoming dangerous for them, and twice left the city for the quieter French countryside areas of Gers and Normandy. On May 25, 1940 Hitler ordered his troops to resume their advance into Belgium and France. The Reys had seen refugees fleeing Northern France for Paris, and then fleeing Paris for areas near the coastline or the Spanish border. The Jewish couple knew that to survive they must become two more of the millions of displaced persons abandoning France. They packed up a few cherished belongings, including their unpublished manuscripts and drawings, and the remainder of the cash advance from Gallimard. Public transportation was jammed, if it was running at all. And like most Parisians, the Reys didn't own a car. Bicycles were worth their weight in gold, and were being sold at such exorbitant prices they might as well have been made of it. The resourceful H.A. Rey scoured Paris for cast-off spare parts and broken two-wheelers, and hastily cobbled together a couple of makeshift bikes. On June 12, 1940 the Reys left Paris with their vitally important Brazilian passports in hand.