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| Translation of the sign on the gate means "To Each His Own" or Everybody Gets What He Deserves! |
Thursday, 12 January 2012
Day 16 - Louis at the Gate to Buchenwald!
Wednesday, 11 January 2012
Day 15 - Paris and Stage One!
"We were soon cosily tucked up on our train to the South-West and for Le Mans now, the landscape changing to sunnier and more pleasant countyside, not so harsh looking as the North.
As we listened to the French talking we gathered that they had had more than enough of the Boche. Eventually, we were taken to be northern Boche with a more proud bearing. We had another stop over at Le Mans for Cherbourg. Long enough for another visit to town. We had a good hearty meal in the German canteen for which John had coupons. The meal was typical Nordic, a thick soup and a big plate of meat, potatoes and veges, with custurd pie for dessert.
We walked up the sloping avenue till we reached what looked like the central square. It is always amazing how one can pick up exactly what one is looking for. In this case, a biggish bistro with girls which turned out to be a brothel of course. After ordering the wine the girls came in to join us and we had one called Suzanne Bardot. To this day I still wonder about that connection!
There were Germans around going up and down the stairs in full force. At the same time you could notice the French patriots everywhere talking and sitting conveniently at the tables. Somehow, they realized that we did not come for the usual information. That is the way it was done and we have fallen into the right place. Suzanne told us very trustingly that every week or so an English agent came for pick-ups and took them to the coast of the Vendee or Bretagne, to be transferred from the French fishing boats to the Royal Navy trawler somehow under the nose of the Germans.
There it was the contact just like that! On this she left and attended to other customers. We had found what we needed. Now, we had to lose John and stay behind and make good for a week or so. We had no rations or passes and didn't know anybody or have much money left on us either.
It had to be done alone, a group of three or four was too compromising. So we left the bistro deep in thought seriously pondering the whole subject. I decided I would make a go of it somehow while strolling back to the station because time was up.
John was ready for us and at any moment the train would arrive. Once on it the train would take me far away. I had to look for an opportunity to stay in the station. The locomotive came hissing and steaming in on the other track like a huge monster. My nerves were tense and I kept to the rear of the group quickly looking everywhere. John in the lead ran with the pack to the other tunnel to get to the other track. I was trying to lag behind them when they all entered the tunnel.
I passed stealthily along the other side of the wall and took the stairway. Down they all went in a rush not observing my absence in their hurry and excitement. They climbed on the train which suddenly departed quickly in the same manner as it had arrived. Nobody seemed to miss me and I kept a bit in the shadows out of their view. Good bye! When the train was a good distance I have to laugh loosening the tension of my subdued fears and now in relief, I had made it to the first stage!
I could just imagine John looking all over the train compartments and starting to ask questions. I hoped they would keep quiet for my sake. The first thing was getting my bearings here. I started chatting to two french porters, telling them I was lost, after missing my train, which was the unvarnished truth after all.
They told me that the best thing to do was to go to the Renault works as they needed people and from there get myself established. Well and good I walked towards the place after looking around to find it and then in the process got myself an enormous aperitif. On going back to get my few belongings I took a chance in the German canteen again. Indeed, I got myself another hearty meal but also the attention of a nosy lieutenant asking me all kinds of questions. He tried German in my dialect but ended up talking English which we both had a working knowledge of. From there, after excusing himself, he somehow got to a telephone and soon I was picked up by the German police and taken to their headquarters.
I don't know if John had signalled from somewhere and somehow but they treated me well on someone's orders! They were not yet Gestapo and I had a comfortable room but was closely watched....."
To be continued
As we listened to the French talking we gathered that they had had more than enough of the Boche. Eventually, we were taken to be northern Boche with a more proud bearing. We had another stop over at Le Mans for Cherbourg. Long enough for another visit to town. We had a good hearty meal in the German canteen for which John had coupons. The meal was typical Nordic, a thick soup and a big plate of meat, potatoes and veges, with custurd pie for dessert.
We walked up the sloping avenue till we reached what looked like the central square. It is always amazing how one can pick up exactly what one is looking for. In this case, a biggish bistro with girls which turned out to be a brothel of course. After ordering the wine the girls came in to join us and we had one called Suzanne Bardot. To this day I still wonder about that connection!
There were Germans around going up and down the stairs in full force. At the same time you could notice the French patriots everywhere talking and sitting conveniently at the tables. Somehow, they realized that we did not come for the usual information. That is the way it was done and we have fallen into the right place. Suzanne told us very trustingly that every week or so an English agent came for pick-ups and took them to the coast of the Vendee or Bretagne, to be transferred from the French fishing boats to the Royal Navy trawler somehow under the nose of the Germans.
There it was the contact just like that! On this she left and attended to other customers. We had found what we needed. Now, we had to lose John and stay behind and make good for a week or so. We had no rations or passes and didn't know anybody or have much money left on us either.
It had to be done alone, a group of three or four was too compromising. So we left the bistro deep in thought seriously pondering the whole subject. I decided I would make a go of it somehow while strolling back to the station because time was up.
John was ready for us and at any moment the train would arrive. Once on it the train would take me far away. I had to look for an opportunity to stay in the station. The locomotive came hissing and steaming in on the other track like a huge monster. My nerves were tense and I kept to the rear of the group quickly looking everywhere. John in the lead ran with the pack to the other tunnel to get to the other track. I was trying to lag behind them when they all entered the tunnel.
I passed stealthily along the other side of the wall and took the stairway. Down they all went in a rush not observing my absence in their hurry and excitement. They climbed on the train which suddenly departed quickly in the same manner as it had arrived. Nobody seemed to miss me and I kept a bit in the shadows out of their view. Good bye! When the train was a good distance I have to laugh loosening the tension of my subdued fears and now in relief, I had made it to the first stage!
I could just imagine John looking all over the train compartments and starting to ask questions. I hoped they would keep quiet for my sake. The first thing was getting my bearings here. I started chatting to two french porters, telling them I was lost, after missing my train, which was the unvarnished truth after all.
They told me that the best thing to do was to go to the Renault works as they needed people and from there get myself established. Well and good I walked towards the place after looking around to find it and then in the process got myself an enormous aperitif. On going back to get my few belongings I took a chance in the German canteen again. Indeed, I got myself another hearty meal but also the attention of a nosy lieutenant asking me all kinds of questions. He tried German in my dialect but ended up talking English which we both had a working knowledge of. From there, after excusing himself, he somehow got to a telephone and soon I was picked up by the German police and taken to their headquarters.
I don't know if John had signalled from somewhere and somehow but they treated me well on someone's orders! They were not yet Gestapo and I had a comfortable room but was closely watched....."
To be continued
Tuesday, 10 January 2012
Day 14 - The Resistance Movement and "Dulle Griet"!
"By the time of the Spring of 1942, which would have been my early call-up for the class of 1943, I was looking and trying to gather information on how to get closer to the Spanish border without being noticed.
Boosts to our moral were being given by the knowledge that agents were being dropped everywhere with the equipment and monies to continue the struggle on a more even basis. Some were landed by short takeoff planes on the new autostrade strip at Jabeke near Bruges. Somewhere on the other side a party of blackshirts was taking place in an old castle and aerodrome with the consequence that it got bombed out.
This was the boost to our moral we had been looking for. Everything was in good working order now. I met an electrician, in the trade school, called Everaert, an extremely selfish character he turned out to be but reliable, whose uncle, an opportunist of considerable dimensions turned collaborator.
The uncle advertised the fact that he needed able bodied students for the vacation periods and others for the Normandy coast with good pay and food; that was it! John his name was, handled a subcontracting firm for the "örganization Tod" for helping at construction of which we had no knowledge.
Curiosity got the better of us and we were told, find out. We were all fully aware of the secret operations carefully implemented by our teachers, documents were supplied by John. The trip would go through Brussels, Paris, Le Mans to Cherbourg and surrounding places. Contacts would be looked out for by us all along the route. Everything was as wished for and set for those assaults.
I had probed the Dunkirk area first but that was hopeless too well guarded. Some of us got into the Calais region. I went there with an old friend, George, a boyhood acqaintance who had recenlty gained a lot of experience on the island of Jersey. He had escaped by hiding away on a provisions ferry.
George and I nearly got ourselves arrested in the same dunes as I had been in before by a German platoon on exercise, who took us for spies. After this, I lost track of George as he belonged to a new resistance group and found Daniel instead who was interested in getting to England.
For this mission, with John and Everaert plus another eleven of us I had to find out if I could get through now one way or the other. Our team consisted mostly of Ostend lads, quite a few had a British background like the Hendersons, Jarvis's and Maynards of families like mine from past British campaigns and fuly integrated. Ostend had still quite a decent sized Anglican community. We all had one single thing in mind, reaching England and hitting the enemy back as hard as we could from there.
Our John had his quota now and we set off on the day of the trial run fully operational. He had to watch the lot of us as he was solely responsible for us. I suspected that he realized what we had in mind, so much his nephew would have told him, too, but his ideas were to make the knife cut both ways. For so much, I realized from my own personal observations that we were in relatively safe hands for this double game, for the moment!
The loyal bunch I should call the group now was off. The trip went according to plan smoothly rolling along, crossing the frontiers with flying colours. This time check points and free passage provided for! It took us nine hours to reach Paris.
I now stood in the silvery moonlight and I thought, we are making better headway than in that early May day of 1940 when I was with my family. We passed Compiegne, the Armistace Place where Hitler had stood on so much!
I now started to reflect about my Grandmother who had left for the old Inn on t' Sas, Slijkens?? or muddy sluices as we called it. She wouldn't budge anymore for the rest of the war, that was for sure! Once the old lady made up her mind she could be like a "Dulle Griet", or an angry old lady. ""Dulle Griet", was also a well known character in Flemish folklore, illustrated by H. Bosh. It could also mean a big gun used in sieges and in dialect meaning, somebody, usually female, who gets in a fierce fighting mood..."
To be continued ...
Boosts to our moral were being given by the knowledge that agents were being dropped everywhere with the equipment and monies to continue the struggle on a more even basis. Some were landed by short takeoff planes on the new autostrade strip at Jabeke near Bruges. Somewhere on the other side a party of blackshirts was taking place in an old castle and aerodrome with the consequence that it got bombed out.
This was the boost to our moral we had been looking for. Everything was in good working order now. I met an electrician, in the trade school, called Everaert, an extremely selfish character he turned out to be but reliable, whose uncle, an opportunist of considerable dimensions turned collaborator.
The uncle advertised the fact that he needed able bodied students for the vacation periods and others for the Normandy coast with good pay and food; that was it! John his name was, handled a subcontracting firm for the "örganization Tod" for helping at construction of which we had no knowledge.
Curiosity got the better of us and we were told, find out. We were all fully aware of the secret operations carefully implemented by our teachers, documents were supplied by John. The trip would go through Brussels, Paris, Le Mans to Cherbourg and surrounding places. Contacts would be looked out for by us all along the route. Everything was as wished for and set for those assaults.
I had probed the Dunkirk area first but that was hopeless too well guarded. Some of us got into the Calais region. I went there with an old friend, George, a boyhood acqaintance who had recenlty gained a lot of experience on the island of Jersey. He had escaped by hiding away on a provisions ferry.
George and I nearly got ourselves arrested in the same dunes as I had been in before by a German platoon on exercise, who took us for spies. After this, I lost track of George as he belonged to a new resistance group and found Daniel instead who was interested in getting to England.
For this mission, with John and Everaert plus another eleven of us I had to find out if I could get through now one way or the other. Our team consisted mostly of Ostend lads, quite a few had a British background like the Hendersons, Jarvis's and Maynards of families like mine from past British campaigns and fuly integrated. Ostend had still quite a decent sized Anglican community. We all had one single thing in mind, reaching England and hitting the enemy back as hard as we could from there.
Our John had his quota now and we set off on the day of the trial run fully operational. He had to watch the lot of us as he was solely responsible for us. I suspected that he realized what we had in mind, so much his nephew would have told him, too, but his ideas were to make the knife cut both ways. For so much, I realized from my own personal observations that we were in relatively safe hands for this double game, for the moment!
The loyal bunch I should call the group now was off. The trip went according to plan smoothly rolling along, crossing the frontiers with flying colours. This time check points and free passage provided for! It took us nine hours to reach Paris.
I now stood in the silvery moonlight and I thought, we are making better headway than in that early May day of 1940 when I was with my family. We passed Compiegne, the Armistace Place where Hitler had stood on so much!
I now started to reflect about my Grandmother who had left for the old Inn on t' Sas, Slijkens?? or muddy sluices as we called it. She wouldn't budge anymore for the rest of the war, that was for sure! Once the old lady made up her mind she could be like a "Dulle Griet", or an angry old lady. ""Dulle Griet", was also a well known character in Flemish folklore, illustrated by H. Bosh. It could also mean a big gun used in sieges and in dialect meaning, somebody, usually female, who gets in a fierce fighting mood..."
To be continued ...
Monday, 9 January 2012
Day 13 - Jewish people just disappeared!
"It seemed to me that there wasn't much time for romance and idylles,!! it had to wait until the war was over, the eternal moving didn't help. All the girls we grew up with were biding their time waiting for the most eligible of the young men to return. Security was a big thing for them. Most love affairs had to evolve by impulse and need, nature's way. The meeting places like dance halls were closed by the occupation powers, but we held claundestine drinking parties with an advanced warning system operated to warn us of the patrols, then there was the eternal curfews to deal with...
In addition, the constant bombing and increasing flights over us to destroy Germany at night kept us fully awake by the flak! alone, we slept as much in shelters as at home. Also, the Royal Navy had a go at the submarine and speedboat base which soon was completely blocked. Because of this the submarines went more from their northern bases and St. Nazire straight for the open Atlantic: the speedboats quickly monitored as soon as they left their mooring got strafed.
My brother Gerard was born in all this turmoil and was called a typical war child. We were moved out of our house to accommodate the Luftwaffe personnel. Mostly it was for the generals and officers which enabled them to hold their Roman-orgies in the best houses available. Later those ladies of ill repute would run away with the best furniture, if they had not already been caught for doubtful practices, collaboration with intended theft.
Physically, I kept up with my training and morally was more determined than ever that I had to make it to England for the best of reasons. The secret radio broadcasts kept encouraging us to go, come what may, instead of being sent to Germany. This was another restriction not being allowed to tune in to the B.B.C. To be caught meant certain deportation to the camps as an enemy of the state.
One of my biggest disappointments was when a family quarrel broke out, lets say between husband and wife and she gave her husband away, in spite, which could cause the man to lose his life through it. Vice Versa too and so many other pitiful cases one heard about...
With the war on all fronts in full swing the communists brought in their groups of resistance too which was an asset. This uneasy alliance was competitive but nevertheless an additional force. Little groups came together to achieve breakthroughs with the aim of harrassing the enemy as much as possible and results increased with leaps and bounds. We stripped what we could before the enemy could get near. Once we were nearly caught as we contoured the Atlantic Wall right behind the back of a guard and then got chased off the roof by another couple of soldiers who had watched us from a hidden place across the road. We hid in a vent dug near the roof but eventually got flushed out at the end of the line. To our great surprise the soldiers let us go! This was the only long view we had had since the beginning of hostilities of our beloved seaside!
Jewish people were getting the brunt of the German's revenge, the rational for such behavior was explained in "Mein Kamph". For us it was rather a strange experience, Jewish children had been to school with us, amongst us, and nobody had ever thought about it they had been blending in with us for centuries. They kept their own traditions which they had preserved and practiced at home to keep the Jewish faith.
There was a synagogue behind one of our central churches and they seemed to enjoy all the freedom of worship. We didn't really understand what all the big fuss that was made about it at that time. The first thing that happened was that they made them wear the yellow star with "Jood" on it, then they were gradually transported, they just disappeared......!
Some went into hiding fearing the worst. Those were the wise ones of course".....
To be continued ...
In addition, the constant bombing and increasing flights over us to destroy Germany at night kept us fully awake by the flak! alone, we slept as much in shelters as at home. Also, the Royal Navy had a go at the submarine and speedboat base which soon was completely blocked. Because of this the submarines went more from their northern bases and St. Nazire straight for the open Atlantic: the speedboats quickly monitored as soon as they left their mooring got strafed.
My brother Gerard was born in all this turmoil and was called a typical war child. We were moved out of our house to accommodate the Luftwaffe personnel. Mostly it was for the generals and officers which enabled them to hold their Roman-orgies in the best houses available. Later those ladies of ill repute would run away with the best furniture, if they had not already been caught for doubtful practices, collaboration with intended theft.
Physically, I kept up with my training and morally was more determined than ever that I had to make it to England for the best of reasons. The secret radio broadcasts kept encouraging us to go, come what may, instead of being sent to Germany. This was another restriction not being allowed to tune in to the B.B.C. To be caught meant certain deportation to the camps as an enemy of the state.
One of my biggest disappointments was when a family quarrel broke out, lets say between husband and wife and she gave her husband away, in spite, which could cause the man to lose his life through it. Vice Versa too and so many other pitiful cases one heard about...
With the war on all fronts in full swing the communists brought in their groups of resistance too which was an asset. This uneasy alliance was competitive but nevertheless an additional force. Little groups came together to achieve breakthroughs with the aim of harrassing the enemy as much as possible and results increased with leaps and bounds. We stripped what we could before the enemy could get near. Once we were nearly caught as we contoured the Atlantic Wall right behind the back of a guard and then got chased off the roof by another couple of soldiers who had watched us from a hidden place across the road. We hid in a vent dug near the roof but eventually got flushed out at the end of the line. To our great surprise the soldiers let us go! This was the only long view we had had since the beginning of hostilities of our beloved seaside!
Jewish people were getting the brunt of the German's revenge, the rational for such behavior was explained in "Mein Kamph". For us it was rather a strange experience, Jewish children had been to school with us, amongst us, and nobody had ever thought about it they had been blending in with us for centuries. They kept their own traditions which they had preserved and practiced at home to keep the Jewish faith.
There was a synagogue behind one of our central churches and they seemed to enjoy all the freedom of worship. We didn't really understand what all the big fuss that was made about it at that time. The first thing that happened was that they made them wear the yellow star with "Jood" on it, then they were gradually transported, they just disappeared......!
Some went into hiding fearing the worst. Those were the wise ones of course".....
To be continued ...
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