Confined, Yet Free
At that time, in May, 1943, the Dutch population had gone
on a work strike against Hitler. Trains and buses ground to
a standstill. Factories became inactive. All farm workers
stayed home except those milking cows, but they dumped the
milk into the canals. Anyone who dared to work was
reprimanded harshly and called a traitor.
The whole population held its breath, wondering what the
ubermensch (superman) would do now since his bread basket
was not functioning anymore. We did not wait in expectation
very long. The following proclamation appeared everywhere:
l.) Curfew is from 8 p.m. till 6 a.m. 2.) No more than five
people can meet together. 3.) No person is allowed to travel
more than 2 kilometers from his address. 4.) Go back to work
or suffer the consequences. But it was only a proclamation,
so what! But what we didn't know was that a division of SS
troops, noted for its brutality, was called out of Poland to
crush the rebellious Dutch.
My five friends and I decided to go on a bike tour since the
weather was sunny, flowers were blooming and we had
unexpected holidays! About 8 kilometers from our home
village at a crossing obscured by trees, we ran smack-dab
into a SS trap. "Halt-Mensch! Snel! Handen-Aufwarts!"
(Stop-Man! Fast! Hands up!) came the command. There was no
way to escape. Machine guns were trained on us to shoot and
kill. "Ausweis" (identification) was another command.
Reluctantly we complied. "What are you doing here`? You are
too far away from your village! Why are you not at work'?"
These words were accompanied by stinging slaps and swift
kicks with their steel-toed boots.
"Einsteigen!" (get in the truck) and some of us were kicked
in. They took off with us in their vehicles, down side
roads, through villages, shooting at people, chasing some
and in general just terrorizing the population. Around 6
p.m. they approached the village where we lived. Some
workers who had just milked the cows were returning from the
farm. But when they saw the green camouflaged trucks coming,
they ran back to the barn. The trucks came to a screeching
stop right in front of my Dad and Mom's house. The soldiers
caught the workers, but let them go since they "returned
from work."
The neighbor women stood lamenting and crying for us, but
not Mom Rita. When she saw her son with the others, she went
in the house, quickly prepared sandwiches and approached the
guard with outstretched hands and with a smile on her face,
said, "This is for my boy, the blond one." Did this
"trained-to-kill" menacing SS soldier still have a soft spot
in his heart? Or perhaps his mind went back home to his own
mother's smile, or was it the Angel of the Lord working on
Mom Rita's behalf? Whatever it was, he let her pass and she
handed me the sandwiches with the question, "When are you
coming home?"
"Oh, tonight, Mom, or tomorrow for sure!" was my optimistic
reply. Mom returned home and no doubt started to pray with
Dad for the safe return of their son and the other young
men.
The SS men went to a tavern, except for one guard, to eat
and drink and no doubt boast about their accomplishments!
After an hour, they came out and the officer barked a
command. The soldiers then lined us six young men against
the wall behind a shed and took their position 10 to 15
yards away. My friend Peter said, "The crazy guys are going
to shoot us!" "No, they are just scaring us!" I replied.
Suddenly two Dutch Federal Police appeared around the
corner. They saluted the officer and a rapid exchange of
words took place. The result was all of us had to raise our
right hand and promise to return to work the next day. We
gladly did and we were allowed to go home - a happy ending
to say the least. Hundreds of people had been shot or
killed, while others had been sent off to concentration
camps during the crushing defeat of the uprising.
De Jong, Albert. Two Soldiers in God's Victorious Army.
2002, p. 104-106.