7. 1943: Suspicious suitcases, and what the Germans really believed

Life became gradually more difficult. Not only food and clothing were rationed, but energy was also in short supply. Once the permitted allocation of piped gas or electricity had been used, the authorities would cut off the supply. In later years, gas and electricity were only available at certain hours of the day, and by the end of 1944 the supply dried up completely. After that, we had to find our own means of cooking our food. By then we had also learned to live without heating because anthracite and fire wood had become completely unavailable.

Railway services were restricted more and more as the war progressed. In the beginning we still had electric trains. Later, after the Germans confiscated the copper overhead lines, trains reverted to steam.

A small concrete bunker was built on top of the tender of each locomotive for the safety of the machinist and the stoker. Although I was lucky never to encounter an aerial attack myself, from 1943 onwards, it wasn't unheard of for trains to be shot at. If a passenger train was about to be attacked, the fighter planes would first either fire a warning round along the tracks or otherwise simply fly low overhead. After the train stopped, the passengers would run as far as possible in search of cover. Behind each train there was often a flat bed truck with FLAK, German anti-aircraft guns.

In The Hague, the Germans cleared out large areas. Oma von Ziegenweidt (Father's mother) lived at van Nijenrodestraat 91. 

Present-day van Nijenrodestraat 91, The Hague

Father, anticipating the forced evacuation, made a number of trips to The Hague with me to pick up Oma's belongings. We would each carry two empty suitcases, and return to Bussum fully loaded. Our plan was that Oma would come and live with us if she was forced to leave her home. During one of these trips, as we were waiting at the station, an inspector ordered us into his office on the platform. 

He wanted to see if we were smuggling food or other contraband into The Hague. Father suddenly appeared to be in a terrible hurry and this naturally made the man even more suspicious. We first had to open the large suitcase. Inside it was a smaller, empty suitcase. Mine was the same:inside, there was also a small, empty suitcase. The inspector's suspicions weren't completely allayed, but he had to let us go.

Soon after, Oma moved to Bussum. I don't know how her large pieces of furniture were transported. Presumably they came by rail.

In spite of all the German victories in the first years of the war, we were convinced the Allies would eventually prevail. 

At the bank, Father sometimes met with high-ranking German officers, who would tell stories about the inexhaustible Russian army. The Wehrmacht destroyed untold numbers of tanks, but there were always new ones to take their place. It was the same with the infantry. 

Confidentially the officers told Father that the turning point of the war had already occurred in 1941. Later we realised this was true.

During the summer we made a number of trips to Lienden in the Betuwe area. We first took the train from Bussum to Amersfoort and from there we took an electric tram to Rhenen, where we caught the ferry to the other side of the Rhine. 

After that it was just a half-hour walk to Mr. Elings, one of Father's business associates. 

Elings bought 'fruit on the tree': this meant he paid the farmer for it at the beginning of the year. This gave him the right to pick it all but he had to transport it to the auctioneers, where it was sold to wholesalers. The public could buy only very small quantities - with ration coupons. 

At the source however, there was no control. We could fill our suitcases and boxes to the brim with fruit. The difficult part was bringing it all back home. There were often inspectors near the ferry who wouldn't hesitate to confiscate anything they found. On one such a trip, we had already seen them standing on the riverbank checking everyone boarding the ferry.

The land around Rhenen. The bridge in the background was built in 1955. A railway bridge from 1883 was destroyed during the war. This is why they had to travel by ferry to get to the other side in 1943.

That day on the way home, we first walked a short distance along the outer dyke, before crossing the foreshore and creeping surreptitiously towards the inner dyke which lay much closer to the river. Between the inner dyke and the river little shrubs and bushes were dotted about, providing us with some shelter from the sharp eyes of the inspectors standing on the road above the ferry. The ferryman, on the other hand, did see us. We approached slowly and when he signaled that he was about to leave the shore, we ran as fast as we could with our heavy load to the ferry and managed to leap on board just in time. The inspectors couldn't to do anything.

In September I started at the secondary school. The school building was occupied by the German army and our school was temporarily housed in the Christian school, the same building that had been evacuated for the German soldiers three years previously, and which had been the target of the bomb that had hit the house next door. We had to share the building with the Lyceum, another secondary school. One week we had our lessons in the morning and the Lyceum pupils had theirs in the afternoon, and the following week the order was reversed. This went on until September 1944.

In primary school I had already learned quite a bit of German. At the secondary school, German was heavily emphasized. English was considered unimportant, and wasn't taught until our third year.