Andreas: There was a female draftsman, Antoinette Collin, who made things for Robbedoes. I think she has stopped. I think we were the first generation of Saint-Luc. In my year were Duveaux and me, in the next year Antonio Cossu, Philippe Foerster and Philippe Berthet, and the year after that François Schuiten and Goffin and later several others: Séraphine, Chantal de Spiegeleer. Who came after that I don't remember. When Schuiten came to Saint-Luc, we didn't understand what his purpose was. He had already published a short story in Pilote and was technically more advanced than the others.

Andreas: If so many people went to Saint-Luc, it was only because there was nothing else. Everyone who wanted to do comics went to Saint-Luc. At Saint-Luc were people with more talent than the others, with more talent than myself. Because the Saint-Luc is not only a higher education, you can start there just after elementary school with art history, anatomy, drawing lessons, etcetera, until the final exams of secondary school. The people who went through all of that were great draftsmen. But sometimes they were afraid and stopped just as soon as they left their schooldesks. They were not really motivated to make comics. One started working in a restaurant, another - a real genius - at a bank. A shame, because they could draw really well.

Andreas: Only relatively late I started thinking about the war. That was when I went to Saint-Luc, where I was the German, the "hun". "Hé, are you starting the occupation again?" That sort of jokes. I heard them too on my holidays to France. I remember really well. On one day I was here in Brittany, with a girlfriend. When we said we were German, it went: "O yeah, I fought in the war too." Always that war. It got on my nerves considerably, because I realized: "It is not my problem, I didn't participate in the war, I wasn't even born then. I don't feel responsible for it." I must say it haunted me for a long time. Germans among eachother don't talk about the war as something that is to arouse a great feeling of guilt. It was just war. And that not in the way the outside world imagines it.