|
So that was
the incredibly severe winter of 1944.
My father had left for Friesland on a bike without tyres
to get food and make arrangements for us to stay there
for the duration of the war. He had been gone for two
days when we received a message from an uncle in
Oestgeest saying: “I have 150 kilos of tulip bulbs for
you but I can’t get any further than Wassenaar with my
delivery bike so you’ll have to collect them there”. So,
my stepmother rented a wheelbarrow from a hire firm
around the corner from our house. She and my eldest
brother, who was 13, then set out through the snow and
ice on their way to Wassenaar. Their journey was a
success but of course it was freezing cold and it was a
difficult trip for a 22 or 23-year-old woman to make
with a 13-year-old child that wasn’t hers.
In Wassenaar
she had to wait half an hour for the man, who helped her
load the tulip bulbs. And then they started back. The
Benoordenhoutseweg was much too dangerous, too wide, and
guarded by many German soldiers. So they turned left
after the old zoo and entered the Marlot district.
In Marlot, a man walked up to them and asked: “Shall I
help you push?” But in wartime you couldn’t really trust
anyone because there were some Dutchmen who would steal
food from their compatriots. And, if you had any goods,
there were Germans who would confiscate them and keep
them for themselves, so in those days you didn’t trust
anyone.
Therefore, they weren’t really pleased with his offer.
They were glad to have help pushing, but they would
rather not have had the man.
They then walked through the Bezuiderhout neighbourhood.
What I didn’t mention, that was also happening at the
time, was that V-1 rockets were being launched against
London from the Haagse Bos. While they were walking
there, one was launched. They saw it rise, and then
there was a sudden loud bang and a lot of flames. A V-1
was in the air, about 50 metres high and it careened. There was an
enormous blast. Very close to them. The sonic boom had
probably passed over their heads because when they
walked down the Bezuiderhout the whole street was
littered with shards of glass. All the windows had
shattered. It was a real shock to them. About a
hundred metres further, once they had passed the Karel
Reinierszkade, which is quite close to Huis ten Bosch,
my brother Leo saw a large black bag in the street. A
large bag. Just sitting there. There were houses, a
pavement, a cycle path and there it was on the bare
street, all by itself, just sitting there. So he gazed
at it. And gazed at it. OK...ok… what could it be. A
hundred metres further on he said: “Mama, I have to take
a closer look”. He went and picked up the bag and
brought it back to the wheelbarrow. But they didn’t dare
to open it with the man still with them. Finally, in the
centre of the town, the man said: “thanks for letting me
help you”. He turned off to the left. They were very
pleased he’d gone and continued homewards.
I’ll
never forget it. I was then…yes…nine and a half, almost
ten. I was sitting by the window with my brother Willem,
who was 12, looking at the snow and ice outside when we
saw them, freezing cold, coming down the street with the
wheelbarrow. We flew down the stairs to unload the tulip
bulbs. And ... there was the bag, of course. The bag was
placed on the table.
“OK”, said mama, “let’s open it now”. And, thinking
back, it was a true miracle because we had nothing to
eat, nothing at all. The bag was full of tins and things
we had never eaten before. Asparagus, tinned salmon. Ten
or twelve tins were set out on the table. Now, in that
small house of ours we had 5 rooms on the second floor
but only one was left because we had removed almost all
the doors and walls. So we tore down the last few walls
upstairs and used the wood to get the stove burning.
Singing, with tears of joy on our faces, we sat in front
of the stove, in front of our divine miracle. Two days
later my father returned from Friesland with a suitcase
full of food and the news that he had made arrangements
to take us to Friesland for the rest of the Hunger
Winter. |
|
|
