Surely very frightening were the V-2 missiles with their deadly loads for England, and -vice versa- the allied planes on their way to Germany. I was made well aware of the fact that these infernal machines -by accident or otherwise- could drop on us. The proof of this possibility I had seen with my own eyes a few blocks away from our house. For that reason we were regularly sleeping in the basement. The authorities had also provided shelter in the ancient defense works, so when it got really hot we would make use of those facilities. From our house we just had to ran five houses to the right to find a staircase that brought us to the labyrinth of casemates (kazematten) deep down under the town.
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Meanwhile for children there were other things that mattered. In the middle of the war I ran into an army car. Aside from a bump on my head, I didn't suffer much from it, but was the more frightened by the two German officers jumping out of the vehicle. I couldn't conceive they were concerned about my condition. Their care about me didn't correspond with what I had heart of them. Somewhere else in the country a little girl walked into the water and was saved by an alert citizen. That fact not only determined her fate, but my future as well. |
Towards the end of the occupation, our road being a main thoroughfare, I saw endless troops passing on withdrawal, taking with them goods and livestock. They proved a demoralized and poor lot. At age six I knew how to despise them, to mock their shabbiness and to spit at their unlawful greed. At the same time it was exciting entertainment. At one point we witnessed an officer drawing his pistol and shooting one of the truck drivers in his leg, right through the cabin door and all. The victim, who probably had been disobeying orders, came stumbling out the vehicle and there were words. Limping and cursing he tore a piece of wood from the truck side to use it as a walking stick. Spontaneously we sided with the poor fellow, although he was a German.
On the 14th of September 1944 American GIs walked into the street where I lived. The day before rumor had spread that infantry troops had crossed the southern border near Eijsden and had already reached Wijk, where they had come to a halt because of the blown-up bridges. Obviously they had waited for a new day before crossing the river. The street was deadly still, everybody watching from behind the lace curtains, eyes just above window sill. With a few they walked in, in colorless outfit, cute helmet, rifle under the arm, walking in a slow and casual pace unlike the Germans who had seemed to be marching all the time. We loved the Americans right away. A Jeep drove up and stopped at the factory opposite our house. GIs kicked the doors open and went in. This was the ultimate thrill. Moments later some German soldiers emerged, hands up behind the head. As if this had been a signal the whole neighborhood came out onto the street. Of the chaos that followed I remember the excitement and unreserved happiness of every one, the emerging flags and banners, the rounding up of collaborators and moffen meiden ['maids' known for having associated themselves with the Krauts].
The barracks and buildings vacated by the Germans were taken over by the Americans. Whereas before we had avoided those places, now they were an irresistible attraction. A stately building opposite us, named ‘Aux Arcades’, served as soldiers’ mess. The Americans were not fussy with the rules and allowed children to hang around. My elder brothers and sister had developed solid friendships with GIs and were frequenting the place. My age just fell short for making a firm relationship, but I managed to get in around lunch time for a treat of chocolate milk and chocolate pudding, and getting out with a chocolate bar melting in my hands. Heavenly sweet chocolate, satisfying all my needs. In the street it was chewing gum to ask for. My elder brothers had instructed me about the phrase to use: My father [page 1068] has been taken in prison by the Germans, and: Hash wash, nash wash kouwgum for my brudder [haven't you any chewing gum for my brother?].
With the liberation of the country above the river Maas and the ultimate collapse of the Third Reich in May 1945 celebrations set in of which I remember the endless happy crowds jigging and jogging behind numerous brass bands, street after street, day upon day. I would be somewhere in these crowds at the hand of somebody, or lost and alone. From my height I had a good look at girls' buttocks swinging under thin summer skirts and men’s hands slowly gliding down from the girl's waist to come in pace with that swing.