"Otherwise we had a pleasant day in that town gathering presents and tins of biscuits unattainable at home. Our exploits and earnings here enabled the people at home to have an extra ration for once while we were being fed here. One of the other objects we bought was a beautiful knife with an inlaid bone handle, a spanish style flick knife, made for hand to hand fighting, which we knew we could use to defend ourselves if necessary.
I then spent time in another place south of Cherbourg named Brickebec and Quetehou. While I was there I became ill and during my stay in the barracks with a fever I became acquainted with a secret group of Gaullists and other resistance groups doing the same as us, infiltrating and monitoring.
They talked me in to being available for operations with their cause. Things were going our way. They only one left with me now was Everaeart who joined them and was there when the invasion took place. I didn't recuperate well enough and was sent home on sick leave.
As the people at home knew of my endeavours they tried to circulate news to help me find proper contacts. I still had to physically improve my weakened condition left me feeling short of breath and coughing. I also had my arm lanced because of infected boils. My Mother was worried so I took it easy for the winter and continued studying at the trade school. It was a welcome interval, we all had come to know each other again.
There was no respite from the regular bombing which were intended for the convoys and flak guns. Our Allies considered our position and tried for military targets only. I gave information on all the things and installations I had seen to the monitoring teachers at school and this information found its way to England and everything was kept up to date.
Some cinema's are reopened and were showing German U.F.A. films and propoganda pieces grossly overrated. Austrian films showing comics were not too bad. In this way we heard of Zarah Leander who turned out to be a Russian spy in the midst of the German High Command. We also saw Marika Rok a Hungarian dancer and cabaret star.
There was also boxing still at its peak with Karel Sys going to fight Ole, Tandberg in Sweden. He was a Cassuis Clay style of boxer and not damaged in any way. In fact, the whole team were excellent boxers. They would pay for their collaboration after the war with their promoter, Theo Vanhaverbeke.
I didn't hear from John anymore, I couldn't trust him too much and then one day I was watched by a blackshirt while at the doctors. I was sure it was me that he was after, one got that feeling of being under observation.
There is little I can say about this episode except that I passed the time studying more and one evening under the curfew, I fell into the cellar of a bombed house after leaving the cinema. I lost consciousness for a moment and then somebody helped me out of the hole. I had cut the side of my face open which held me up for a while. In the interim I met two old friends George and Daniel and I asked if they would come and join me in going to England or North Africa. They were interested and by the Spring of 1942 we were ready for this operation to begin.
I took George on a trial run and Daniel was nowhere to be found. George was an expect at forging passes and official stamps, we passed the coastal limit zone across Pachendael's old bridge controlled by the Germans who saluted us. The passes were perfect."
To be continued .....
Friday 13 January 2012
Thursday 12 January 2012
Day 17 - Tod's and Caught in the Middle Again!
"The next day John arrived and gave me a good telling off. I told him that I had missed the train. He than told me that my mates had told him everything...!He was responsible for me and said put it all down to experience. The same evening we were back in the fold with the others after a hectic trip across Normandy and arrived at "Le Petite Swiss Normande. The Tod organization was present with architects and supervisors, also with a few ramrods assisting. It was a quasi militarised organization of drop-outs, army rejects and a few old ones. They were dressed in light khaki uniforms.
In the morning, after John had introduced us, we were briefed and John departed to go back somewhere, Belgium? We were taken to an open clearing at the summit of a hill. From what I could make out it was a pyramid built tower structure with a central control and a huge screen similar to that found in a drive-in cinema but grilled and facing the seaside. It appeared to be Radar but not quite as sophisticated as the British Radar. Their specialists resembled air force personnel.
The work we had to do was jolly hard work. The rock face was hard and difficult. The slower we worked the less the Germans would be able to use the Radar but the ramrods and supervisors saw to it that we kept hard at work. Moving the tiploaders tracks I found back breaking. I seemed to get all the load to myself.
When we had finished the building and screen on the hill they took us further afield to Beaumont on the left side of the Cherbourg Peninsular, then to St. Pierre LÉglise which was in front of a large convent. I believe, that later, Pierre-Eglise was used by the Americans during the invasion as a landing sight, near to Utah Beach. Beaumont had another Radar that was very vulnerable to straffing and attack.
One of the Tod men in charge was a typical bully ordering everybody around in the worst possible manner and we thought he was in need of a hard lesson. One day we decided to teach the bully a lesson. While he was picking up dirty cement bags he called us "Dirty French", he then made a huge pile of the cement bags and set light to it. The flames went up very high and burnt the camouflage nets... His smile quickly froze when he saw the chain reaction.
Most of us acted as though we hadn't seen anything till he started screaming fire and then he started to panic, running frantically with buckets of water until it was under control. He then suddenly disappeared from the scene and we were never bothered again.
We also had a fearless strong man in our group called Jan. One day, it didn't take too long for a fight to start after the German soldier's started singing, "We are sailing against England" and referred to the bombing of Coventry. Jan was involved in the fight and got stabbed in the back by a short dagger like bayonet as he was tackling two of them at the same time. The rest of us got rounded up by Tod's military police and transferred to "Tod's" security jail. Jan was taken to hospital and lost a lot of blood but survived he was given sick leave and never came back. The rest of us had a day in the cooler and afterwards we had to run behind their bicycles towards the convent a couple of miles away before we were dismissed.
On our last day, we had a shopping spree in Cherbourg. As there was no suitable transport we took our chances and travelled partly in a french dustcart standing upright, holding our noses and then later in a picturesque little train rolling along the coast. We finally reached Cherbourg in safety to find that a raid had been made on the beach incurring a number of casualities. Some of the casualties were from our group who had been mistaken for Germans. This was our lot to be caught between the various fighting factions. An unpleasant situation inflicted on us because the German's presence was everywhere".
To be continued ...
In the morning, after John had introduced us, we were briefed and John departed to go back somewhere, Belgium? We were taken to an open clearing at the summit of a hill. From what I could make out it was a pyramid built tower structure with a central control and a huge screen similar to that found in a drive-in cinema but grilled and facing the seaside. It appeared to be Radar but not quite as sophisticated as the British Radar. Their specialists resembled air force personnel.
The work we had to do was jolly hard work. The rock face was hard and difficult. The slower we worked the less the Germans would be able to use the Radar but the ramrods and supervisors saw to it that we kept hard at work. Moving the tiploaders tracks I found back breaking. I seemed to get all the load to myself.
When we had finished the building and screen on the hill they took us further afield to Beaumont on the left side of the Cherbourg Peninsular, then to St. Pierre LÉglise which was in front of a large convent. I believe, that later, Pierre-Eglise was used by the Americans during the invasion as a landing sight, near to Utah Beach. Beaumont had another Radar that was very vulnerable to straffing and attack.
One of the Tod men in charge was a typical bully ordering everybody around in the worst possible manner and we thought he was in need of a hard lesson. One day we decided to teach the bully a lesson. While he was picking up dirty cement bags he called us "Dirty French", he then made a huge pile of the cement bags and set light to it. The flames went up very high and burnt the camouflage nets... His smile quickly froze when he saw the chain reaction.
Most of us acted as though we hadn't seen anything till he started screaming fire and then he started to panic, running frantically with buckets of water until it was under control. He then suddenly disappeared from the scene and we were never bothered again.
We also had a fearless strong man in our group called Jan. One day, it didn't take too long for a fight to start after the German soldier's started singing, "We are sailing against England" and referred to the bombing of Coventry. Jan was involved in the fight and got stabbed in the back by a short dagger like bayonet as he was tackling two of them at the same time. The rest of us got rounded up by Tod's military police and transferred to "Tod's" security jail. Jan was taken to hospital and lost a lot of blood but survived he was given sick leave and never came back. The rest of us had a day in the cooler and afterwards we had to run behind their bicycles towards the convent a couple of miles away before we were dismissed.
On our last day, we had a shopping spree in Cherbourg. As there was no suitable transport we took our chances and travelled partly in a french dustcart standing upright, holding our noses and then later in a picturesque little train rolling along the coast. We finally reached Cherbourg in safety to find that a raid had been made on the beach incurring a number of casualities. Some of the casualties were from our group who had been mistaken for Germans. This was our lot to be caught between the various fighting factions. An unpleasant situation inflicted on us because the German's presence was everywhere".
To be continued ...
Day 16 - Louis at the Gate to Buchenwald!
 |
| Translation of the sign on the gate means "To Each His Own" or Everybody Gets What He Deserves! |
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 ...
Sunday 8 January 2012
Day 12 - Patriotic Fervour and Time for Action!
"Ostend and area was now flooded with German ferrets asking all kinds of questions and opinions, with the barges with their fronts cut off, to allow vehicles to be taken on board from the installations along the banks were appearing everywhere, to take on the military paraphenalia....
All peace and quiet had gone and our allies the British had to bomb all this in return, without choice, and we would be in the midst of it again. I think we had more than enough of it and moved away into town where we got bombed instead as a convoy moved throughout and an articulated gun was chased by a flyer. Also, to remember the bombs that most of the time missed hitting the flack team nearest and above us which was placed at an old hotel called the Canon Hotel. Eventually, they blasted them out of position on the rooftop into oblivion.
We then thought it safer to ride to the countryside and a stricken plane proceeded to drop its bombs right next to us in a field. We just couldn't win! For a time no matter where we went the bombing was following us. We decided to take a rest with an old aunt of my Dad's in Beerst near Diksmuide and that was alright for a while. Enough to eat there and we could still take long rides into the surrounding countryside and look for apples and vegetables.
Slowly our funds where running out and my Dad had to go back to town to live, with us following him. Restrictions were really biting and hard now with the end of the war nowhere in sight. We were placed in good homes from Doctor friends my Mother knew very well, but the Germans requisitioned it all in turn, even my bike, as soon as we became nicely settled in.
I hid in trade schools where most resistance and information was gathered and given out from there too. I was offerred a chance to join, somebody put my name straight on a list which was the last straw as I thought it was unwise thing to do, "fancy giving the enemy a chance to get you through a list", so I didn't join. Many were caught this way and one of my friends even lost his head because of patriotic fervour when he was captured and spat in their faces. This was too simple an action and not for me to be extinquished.
I had another turn in the countryside with another good aunt on my Mother's side near the border, so I had the opportunity to make a crossing near there, it was pretty easy for the daring again! Total starvation was relieved on the coastal region by miraculous events such as the herring and sprats becoming stuck near Dunkirk and Calais, backing right up to Ostend. The little boats were still allowed to catch them. They came in loaded to the brim and near to the danger point of sinking through the shear weight of the catch.
We ate herring morning, noon and night and exchanged them for food with the farmers which we smuggled in from the countryside to keep ourselves and boxers alive for the sake of the sport, the only entertainment available which came to the peak of revival. It was a shame the German propaganda got hold of them to elevate Flemish nationalism. After the war they had to pay the wages of sin for that with a five year jail term and self exile afterwards, mostly to Argentina.
My Great Aunt's husband, Maurice was with the "White Brigade", Maurice was a secret silent man who deigned to talk to me. I still wonder whether he wanted me to join but I went back to Ostend and found other means of work instead.
The coast was on full alert now and put on the defensive after they lost The Battle of Britian, having tried their reign of terror there too, the Germans started losing so many planes there, they never achieved the superiority to make a landing remotely possible considering those barges! They attempted a small raid from France, we heard all about it, the Hitler Youth, who were fully involved got burned and extensively hospitalised in St Omairs afterwards.
The three walls of fire in the possible landings on the English coast were not fully envisaged and anticipated indeed but secretly unknown they got a partial inkling at that time, considering all things were possible but not advisable. They intended to drive the attention off this idea and direct it instead eastwards destroying at once the myth and the unholy alliance with Stalin, the main "Blitz'" Barborossa, the invasion of Russia.
Little did the Germans know that their quick temper would cloud their judgement and distract the leader of the "Luftwaffe", namely Goering, from the destruction of the air fields in Britain ...,
At this time, my Mother sacrificed a lot in rations giving up her share to us ... Sometimes, we stayed with my Aunt Ray and she managed to get things from the Railway Guards but eventually we had to do without extra helpings of food. We even went to funerals in the countryside just to eat and bring back something. You could get a pass for family business and we had a good fill up on such occasions but now we were unable to stock up and take things with us anymore. Somehow, the enemy gave you no choice, even to breath after a time.
About this time I felt it was about time to make a go of it out of the encirclement. The best way was a well prepared overland crossing via the three "S's", Spain, Switzerland and Sweden. The more contacts we could gather the better, that was my my ultimate aim" (Go Dad Go!)
To be continued ...
All peace and quiet had gone and our allies the British had to bomb all this in return, without choice, and we would be in the midst of it again. I think we had more than enough of it and moved away into town where we got bombed instead as a convoy moved throughout and an articulated gun was chased by a flyer. Also, to remember the bombs that most of the time missed hitting the flack team nearest and above us which was placed at an old hotel called the Canon Hotel. Eventually, they blasted them out of position on the rooftop into oblivion.
We then thought it safer to ride to the countryside and a stricken plane proceeded to drop its bombs right next to us in a field. We just couldn't win! For a time no matter where we went the bombing was following us. We decided to take a rest with an old aunt of my Dad's in Beerst near Diksmuide and that was alright for a while. Enough to eat there and we could still take long rides into the surrounding countryside and look for apples and vegetables.
Slowly our funds where running out and my Dad had to go back to town to live, with us following him. Restrictions were really biting and hard now with the end of the war nowhere in sight. We were placed in good homes from Doctor friends my Mother knew very well, but the Germans requisitioned it all in turn, even my bike, as soon as we became nicely settled in.
I hid in trade schools where most resistance and information was gathered and given out from there too. I was offerred a chance to join, somebody put my name straight on a list which was the last straw as I thought it was unwise thing to do, "fancy giving the enemy a chance to get you through a list", so I didn't join. Many were caught this way and one of my friends even lost his head because of patriotic fervour when he was captured and spat in their faces. This was too simple an action and not for me to be extinquished.
I had another turn in the countryside with another good aunt on my Mother's side near the border, so I had the opportunity to make a crossing near there, it was pretty easy for the daring again! Total starvation was relieved on the coastal region by miraculous events such as the herring and sprats becoming stuck near Dunkirk and Calais, backing right up to Ostend. The little boats were still allowed to catch them. They came in loaded to the brim and near to the danger point of sinking through the shear weight of the catch.
We ate herring morning, noon and night and exchanged them for food with the farmers which we smuggled in from the countryside to keep ourselves and boxers alive for the sake of the sport, the only entertainment available which came to the peak of revival. It was a shame the German propaganda got hold of them to elevate Flemish nationalism. After the war they had to pay the wages of sin for that with a five year jail term and self exile afterwards, mostly to Argentina.
My Great Aunt's husband, Maurice was with the "White Brigade", Maurice was a secret silent man who deigned to talk to me. I still wonder whether he wanted me to join but I went back to Ostend and found other means of work instead.
The coast was on full alert now and put on the defensive after they lost The Battle of Britian, having tried their reign of terror there too, the Germans started losing so many planes there, they never achieved the superiority to make a landing remotely possible considering those barges! They attempted a small raid from France, we heard all about it, the Hitler Youth, who were fully involved got burned and extensively hospitalised in St Omairs afterwards.
The three walls of fire in the possible landings on the English coast were not fully envisaged and anticipated indeed but secretly unknown they got a partial inkling at that time, considering all things were possible but not advisable. They intended to drive the attention off this idea and direct it instead eastwards destroying at once the myth and the unholy alliance with Stalin, the main "Blitz'" Barborossa, the invasion of Russia.
Little did the Germans know that their quick temper would cloud their judgement and distract the leader of the "Luftwaffe", namely Goering, from the destruction of the air fields in Britain ...,
At this time, my Mother sacrificed a lot in rations giving up her share to us ... Sometimes, we stayed with my Aunt Ray and she managed to get things from the Railway Guards but eventually we had to do without extra helpings of food. We even went to funerals in the countryside just to eat and bring back something. You could get a pass for family business and we had a good fill up on such occasions but now we were unable to stock up and take things with us anymore. Somehow, the enemy gave you no choice, even to breath after a time.
About this time I felt it was about time to make a go of it out of the encirclement. The best way was a well prepared overland crossing via the three "S's", Spain, Switzerland and Sweden. The more contacts we could gather the better, that was my my ultimate aim" (Go Dad Go!)
To be continued ...
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