We didn’t know what war was

In the pre-war years, our family knew poverty. I was nearly seventeen when the war started. By then, I had completed nine years of primary school. Officially, it lasted eight years, but my father had managed to get me an extra year. There was no work for me anyway, so at least I wouldn’t be loitering on the streets! We couldn’t afford a bike to attend secondary school in Gorinchem. This poverty was also the reason that, in the pre-war years, quite a few people in our village joined the N.S.B. I could understand it before the war, but I think they should have been wiser during the war!

The mobilisation of the Dutch soldiers in September 1939 was particularly interesting and exciting for boys of my age—I was sixteen at the time. We didn’t know what war was. When all those planes flew over on the morning of 10 May 1940, we climbed the dike along the Waal to make sure we didn’t miss anything of that fascinating spectacle! By the way, we didn’t deal with fanatical SS officers in the village. The German soldiers who manned the guard post by the mill for years gradually integrated and got along well with the population. Not that there weren’t incidents… I remember one evening when I was out on the street after curfew with two friends, and we ran into two Germans. The next day, the Germans put us to work on a heavy sawing job!

As the war dragged on, the atmosphere became more tense. In 1943, I was told in Tiel that I had been chosen to work in Germany. By then, I had a steady job at a fruit company. But that stopped, and I went into hiding. People from the Resistance arranged a hiding place for me with a farmer in Hoornaar. The journey there was quite exciting, as our neighbour was a fervent N.S.B. member. When I got on my bike, with a small wooden box containing some personal belongings on the back, he was just cutting his hedge at the bottom of the dike. To avoid arousing suspicion, I couldn’t take a long farewell from my parents. I cycled to Arkel, where two men from the Underground were waiting for me. We had agreed that I would tie a white handkerchief around my hand, and one of them would have a white handkerchief on his bike handle. They took me to the banks of the Merwede Canal, where we waited until dusk. They then took me to my hiding place, a large farm in Hoornaar. There I helped during the day and slept at one of the farmhands’ houses at night. I stayed there for about three months and had a good time. But when there was a raid at the neighbours’ place, I felt it wasn’t safe any longer. So, I went into hiding with an aunt at Diefdijk near Leerdam.

In September 1944, I returned home. The village was safe; the German soldiers still stationed in Herwijnen seemed to have no other aim than to quietly wait for the end of the war. My boss found out that I was back, and since there was still a lot of fruit to be picked, he could really use me. I took the risk, and I never had any problems with the Germans.

All in all, I made it through the war years well. Sometimes, as strange as it may sound, I’m even glad I went through all of this. Those experiences have made me better able to process current news. I follow it closely, but it doesn’t shake me. I know what war is, and I also know that it eventually ends.

I want to encourage young people today to make the most of their opportunities: learn, study, so you can make a difference in the world. And above all, don’t waste your time loitering on the streets!