CANADA
O Canada!
Our home and native land!
True patriot love in all thy sons command.

With glowing hearts we see thee rise,
The True North strong and free!

From far and wide,
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.

God keep our land glorious and free!
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.

O Canada, we stand on guard for thee

Netherlands:
Wilhelmus van Nassouwe
Ben ik, van Duitsen bloed, (Duits of diets)
Den vaderland getrouwe (vaderland = geboortestreek)
Blijf ik tot in den dood.
Een Prinse van Oranje
Ben ik, vrij onverveerd, (=zonder vrees)
Den Koning van Hispanje
Heb ik altijd geëerd.

I was 13 years old when the Germans overran our country, in May 1940. At first, it didn't seem to make too much difference, but gradually we were subjected by the German army laws. We were required to wear identification, we received coupons for food, clothing, etc., as everything became rationed. I'm not sure when the "Underground" got started, but I became involved as a courier in 1943, delivering a clandestine Newspaper and being part of a raid on the Post office, where a large quantity of identification forms and coupons were stolen. As we were already living with curfew hours, these things needed to be done in the curfew time, which meant that it was dangerous to be about. I was picked-up twice, and escaped both times, once by jumping from a wagon and running into small alleys, getting away from them, the second time I was already on the train, to be transported to Germany to work in factories, but my friend and I jumped overboard when the train slowed down crossing a bridge. We jumped in the water, which was very cold, but we were good swimmers, and then ran to the nearest farm, and while we took a chance on the farmer being friendly or not, (he was) and we got dried out.  I lived in Dokkum, one of the eleven cities of the Province of Friesland, not a great distance from the Wadden Sea. In early summer of 1944, someone came to our house with the message that I should disappear that night, because the Germans were coming for me the next morning. The Underground Network knew about many things and had a way of finding out what the Germans were up to. I left home the next morning around 4 o'clock, on my bike, being careful to avoid the Germans. Dokkum was a "Walled City", in earlier times. The walls were no longer there, but the only access into the city was over one of four bridges. I waited at one bridge until the guard changed, and while they were busy with reports, I raced past and disappeared in other streets. I did not know where to go, but several miles North of town I spotted a farm quite a ways from the road, and again, you take a chance. The farmer and hands were in a field, milking cows. He asked me what I came for, and I said that I needed to hide from the  Germans. I told him that I could milk cows, which gave a laugh, but he said to milk that one over there. I did, he checked, sent me to milk another cow, and that was good, so he said that I better come in and have something to eat. At 16 and 17 years of age, I was six feet tall and strong. That was a very good place to be, because I was treated as one of the family. September of that year I became involved with more Resistance work. This farm was used as "Dropping Area" for arms and munitions. One by one, a group of people would arrive, I was taken aside, and told that from now I was part of them and quitting meant death. When the time came for a dropping, the containers, about 8 ft tall and appr. 3ft diameter, full of goods, came down by parachute, after the airplane had made one pass before doing the "drop". Then we moved all the equipment to a few farms, where hiding places had been made. Later the "stuff" was transported by a small boat to other places.

In January 1945 we had been betrayed and I had to make a run for it. When I was spotted, someone took a shot, which gave me a burn mark in my neck, but ruined the collar of my coat, which could not be replaced, as the stores were empty. I got away, and went from one place to the next for a few months. In April, with rumors of the Canadian Army coming, some of us managed to move South to meet them. We did not go far as they traveled very fast. My top boss of the Resistance was already with them, and when I they heard me speak German to a prisoner; I was immediately given the job of Interpreter as I could speak German almost fluently. Dokkum was liberated the evening of April 15. Word came from the Underground, that 2 ships were coming from Leeuwarden, with the intend to go past Dokkum to the North and so escape to Germany.

The Canadians with their tanks went across farm fields to the canal, the"Ee". The Germans were told to surrender, but one of them let go with a burst of fire. The tank commander ordered to fire before the bow. As I was very near the tank, I did not expect the horrendous bang, but the Germans gave up immediately. As the Island of Schiermonnikoog was equipped with lots of armour, that would be the next target. Two soldiers were sent up the dike, but Germans were already there waiting in a boat. Both Canadian Soldiers were killed. They were buried in the graveyard of the Aalsum church, with full military honors. (They were later re-buried in Holten Cemetery)When the two Canadians were killed, the rest of them changed dramatically. No more mercy, they said. The Gymnasium Hall in Dokkum was being used to house the prisoners, and when they showed some discontent one evening, the tank Commander moved a tank, shoved the barrel through the window, and told me to inform them, that any more noise, and he would blow them to kingdom come. That was the end of it. Schiermonnikoog was taken after a tremendous bombardment. I was there several times to act as guard and interpreter, and they were all brought to Lauwersoog, and from there marched to Dokkum. I remember walking on a pair of very thin Bata gymshoes, and my feet were ice-cold. As we made several P-stops, I noticed this German Flying officer wearing beautiful knee-high boots, with zippers on both sides. So I suggested that we exchange footwear. He refused, but I had the Sub-machine gun, and gave him the option to comply, or fall in the water. As he was bending to take off his boots, his coat fell open and I relieved him of a small pistol also, which I later exchanged for a Smith&Wesson revolver and one thousand cigarettes. I stayed with the Dragoons a few more months, and then joined the Dutch Army, as Indonesia was still occupied by Japan. After much training, including Commando training for Special Forces, I went to Indonesia, with the rank of Sergeant, and later became Sergeant Major, then Regimental Sergeant Major. I returned to Holland in August 1950, was thinking of going to Korea but changed my mind, and came to Canada in April 1951, arriving April 26th.

Sincerely

Joe Fohkens.

(and staff writer for El Mundo Latino News)


Photo left: Mr. Earl Carter - WWII Veteran
Liberator of the Netherlands