France's largest evacuation since WWII: 60,000 flee Bordeaux wildfires

The announcement came crackling through the loudspeaker on Tuesday afternoon, and for a moment the vast exhibition hall fell silent before applause broke out. Residents of three neighborhoods—Le Haillan, Eysines, and Mérignac—could go home. It was the first piece of good news in a week for hundreds of people sleeping on camp beds in what used to be a trade fair venue, now converted into an emergency shelter for the largest evacuation France had seen since the Second World War.

By late July 2026, wildfires sweeping through the Gironde region in southwestern France had forced 220,000 people from their homes. About 60,000 of them ended up in the Parc des Expositions de Bordeaux, a sprawling complex of exhibition halls where rows of camp beds stretched across cavernous spaces. The fires had destroyed more than 240 homes and killed two firefighters, with four others injured. More than 2,000 firefighters were deployed across the region, battling blazes that crept within 15 kilometers of Bordeaux itself. The forecast for Wednesday promised temperatures reaching 39 degrees Celsius—the kind of heat that makes fire spread faster, burn hotter, and become harder to contain.

Inside Hall 2, the reality of displacement had settled into a strange routine. Families sat at trestle tables with their children and grandparents. Two young girls danced to pass the time. A boy rode a tricycle between the rows of beds. Volunteers moved through the space with pillows and sleeping bags, serving meals to people who lined up quietly with their plates. But there was no privacy here—every bed was visible to everyone else, and the toilets were in portable units outside. After five nights in this temporary town, some families had begun to adapt to conditions that were never meant to be permanent.

Alexia Bacquet, 38, an English teacher, had been volunteering since the evacuees arrived, spending three days making coffee. "It's really crazy—we needed many, many people to help us," she said. Her sister Chloé, a 28-year-old psychologist, was working with a support group helping evacuees process the trauma of leaving with almost no time to pack. "They are doing their best to survive the situation," Chloé said. "It's been horrible for them to leave their homes because they don't have any time to pack up their boxes or to take clothes." Another psychologist, Lysa Guinle, 26, reported that evacuees were exhausted and disoriented, but grateful for the presence of volunteers who would simply sit and talk with them. Organizers were asking some volunteers to stay overnight because the psychological need was so acute.

The danger was far from over. On Tuesday, the wind shifted, pushing the fire threat northward and forcing authorities to evacuate 4,000 more people from the beach resort area of Lacanau Lake and the town of Lacanau. Inside the exhibition halls, the forecast for the coming day weighed heavily on everyone's mind. Some families might remain in these temporary shelters for weeks. Outside, the temperature climbed to 35 degrees on Tuesday, and the smell of wildfire drifted in whenever someone opened a door. In the city of Bordeaux itself, life continued under a blue sky, though the previous Sunday had brought thick brown smoke rolling through the streets on a westerly wind. Some residents near the city had refused to evacuate, debating whether the historic center was truly in danger from a fire that was drawing closer. By Wednesday morning, as temperatures threatened to spike again, officials braced for the possibility of new fires breaking out, and the volunteers prepared to serve another day of coffee and conversation to people waiting to learn when—or if—they could go home.