Dangerous Times - living in occupied Holland during WW2 - through the eyes of Gert Delwig

Dad was conscripted into the Dutch Army, they had to spend 12 months or so serving and were then called up again early 1939 with all the trouble with Hitler looming on the horizon.

When the Germans invaded Holland all the soldiers were sent home as they were unable to fight in the occupied country.  The Dutch royal family left Holland for England and safety.  My brother Jan was born while he was in the Army.  (Dutch Army photo of Dad in uniform above)

THE WAR YEARS

I was only 7 when the war broke out and Hank just 5, Jan had just been born in November 1939 all the men were called up to serve but by December 1940 it was all over and Holland was occupied by the Germans.

We were lucky to have food from the Grandpa’s farm.  We had fresh pork and goat meat every week though many went without.  We were never hungry and sometimes had bread and dripping.  There were always veggies from our backyard garden.

The Germans occupied all of Holland.  As kids all we knew was the Germans were marching through the streets all the time l was only 8 they didn’t do us any harm they took a lot of the young men in their 20’s to Germany to work.  Dad was in his 30’s he was hiding from the Germans in a creek underneath the water when the Gestapo and the SS were looking for all the eligible men. He used a reed to breathe through. The chill of the water may have been the reason why he had rheumatic fever.

 THE UNDERGROUND

Some of the men must have then formed the Dutch Underground – l didn’t know anything about that till after the war.  It was too dangerous to tell children and families in case they bragged to friends and towns people.

Being close to the German border many in our town were German sympathisers.  When the Germans invaded some people in our town hung German flags in front of their houses.  We decided to tear the flags down.  The first time was OK but the second time we were caught by the police.  They put us in goal we were just 10 and scared stiff, they gave us a lecture then called Dad, he said it was lucky the police caught us and not the Germans.  The cell was just a room with bars on the door and a bench to sit on and we were there for half an hour.  We had two householders in our street who were German sympathisers. We had a flagpole at the front of our house like many others in the town and when the Germans came we all had to take down our flags.  We were angry as kids that those people were flying German flags so we decided to get rid of them we hid the flags under a hedge. After we were arrested those people put up German flags again.

Dad and Uncle and the local underground raided trains which contained confiscated meat taken from Dutch farms. Some of that meat came from the farms at the top of Holland owned by Mum’s Uncles. They then handed it out to the people who had not seen meat for ages and had very little food to feed their families.

Dad was often away at night working for the Underground though we didn’t know that at the time.

It was not until we had migrated to Australia that we learned about Dad and our families involvement in the underground - a pilot who had been shot down and rescued by Dad then taken to Grandpa's farm greeted us when we arrived in Clunes, Victoria where we settled in Australia.  He embraced Dad then told us about the underground and how proud we should be of our father and family. Dad never spoke of it - even after the war.  The fear of reprisals was still great.

The Van Dolderen laundry mentioned in the book ‘A Bridge Too Far’ was 1km from our house.  Dad’s cousin owned the laundry.  When a plane came down the men in the Underground would retrieve the pilot and crew before the Germans got them, taking them to the laundry then later to safety across the river where the allied lines were camped.  They also helped many Jews escape.

Grandfather hid them at the farm.  The cows were bought inside when it was cold and there was a storage area under their stalls for hay and cattle food.  The Jews and the pilots and plane crews were hidden in there with the cows standing on top.  Grandpa showed us after the war.

MUM’S ILLNESS

When Jopie was born Mum had Thrombosis so she was very ill.  She spent most of her time in the Gazebo with her feet up as it was warm there and it was summer.  Dad and I looked after the home and the kids with the help of Mum’s sister through the day when we were at work.  I was studying to become a Kindergarten teacher then and was working as an aide doing my classes at night.  It took me 3 years to get my certificate. Hank helped Dad with the rabbits, the chickens and in the garden.  We had 6 rabbits as big as a large cat and black and white but bred for the table with the hutches in the shed.  The chicken coop was behind the shed.  We had an incubator to hatch chickens from our own eggs.  These were fine until the Germans took the rabbits.

IN THE CELLAR

Before that we moved into the cellar of our own house for safety the fighting was so bad.

The kids had to sleep on the shelves on mattresses Mum made by sewing sheets together and stuffing them with straw.  Gert, Jan, Hank, Tony and Willie as a baby. Food was all in coupons we were lucky that Grandpa and Grandma had the farm – sometimes we lived on potatoes for a week.  Meat, butter cheese coupons for everything but never enough – the farm made their own butter and milk we were luckier than many families.

There was an airfield close by which the allies tried to bomb, some missed and hit the town.  Air raid sirens would shriek then we heard the drone of the planes and we knew we had to get down into the cellar.  We were right on the flight path of planes heading into Germany to bomb German towns so the Germans would try to shoot them down.  It was a straight line from England to Germany. 

There must have been a lull in the fighting so Mum and Dad decided it was quiet enough for us to come up out of the cellar for a wash Mum was in the front room near the window bathing Willy who was just a little baby in a deep ceramic bowl as she lifted her out a bullet came through the window into the bowl breaking it.  All the water went onto the floor and the bullet went through the jug on the mantle piece lodging in the wall behind.  I think Jopie still has that jug as it didn’t break. We all ran for it back into the cellar to safety.

Fetching water – Dad and his brother got water from the creek which was our only source of water at that time.  They just got back to the door as bullets went through the bucket and the water was gone.

At one stage we couldn’t get out to get food, the Polish, American and English troops dropped food down to us when they realised where we were.  Macaroni and Broad Beans dried which we ate raw as there was no where to cook.

We used buckets for a toilet then Pop emptied it upstairs in the house. The bucket was covered with a lid.  Mum and Dad prepared the occupation by stuffing material mattresses with straw and putting everything they could think of in the cellar.   Germans occupied the airfield nearby and the English were bombing the town and we went into the cellar for safety – this went on all through the war.  When the siren went off we went down because we were so close to Germany we often copped the bombs.  I would go to sleep at night in my bed then wake up in the cellar, Dad had carried me down and l didn’t even wake up.

Pam and I stayed in a Bed and Breakfast in Oosterbeek which was the home where we shifted to a safer cellar than ours at home during the bombing during the war.  It was quite eerie to be back in that home which was in one of the nicer areas in our town – Uncle Jan.

We still went to school, life went on. The only thing different was watching the soldiers marching through the streets.  We walked about 2ks to school and walked home for lunch then back again. That’s 8ks a day in rain hail of shine or even snow.  Socks over our shoes to stop us falling on the icy roads. School hours were 9am – 12noon 1.45 – 4.15, giving us an hour and three quarters to get home and back for lunch.  Sometimes in the middle of winter when a snow storm was coming it got dark at a quarter to three they let us off early so we could get home before dark.

The Weirmacht were family men just soldiers but the Gestapo and the SS were the bad guys.  The soldiers didn’t harass us. (Picture of Gert on tank with girlfriends)

Researching my Dutch family history

   

Writing a family history can be fraught with dramas and often confusing mixed up memories.  When my father's family immigrated from Holland just after the war in 1952 for a new life in Australia they were faced with lots of hurdles to overcome and each member of the 8 member family found different ways to leave the trauma and upheaval of the war behind them.

When I decided to embark on recording some of those memories l had no idea how traumatic that would be and as the years go by l find that more information is lost as l lose those nearest and dearest each taking part of the puzzle with them.

I will post parts of the story here and allow you to follow my convoluted journey to search out more facts - remembering that the children in the photo above were just that - children and mere babies when the war disrupted their happy family life in a beautiful country.

My Auntie Gert - the young lady next to the little boy - my Uncle Jopie holding his rocking horse - became my best source of information as she was old enough to remember events clearly - she left Holland and her fiance - our connection to the Delwig family - behind - he stayed with his dying mother then followed our family after her death and married my Aunt - the only truly Dutch couple as all the other children married Aussies.  Consequently the next generation speak no Dutch as it was decided that they were now all Australians.

Here is part of the

story when Auntie Gert's fiance Gerrard joined her in Australia - just for the Delwigs still living in Holland - Auntie Gert is pictured here on the left  ----

                                                      GERT MARRIES GERRARD

Gerrard came to Australia after his Mother’s death to marry me – l was 20 and we were married in Ballarat at St Andrews Kirk in Sturt St. We lived in a little house which we rented Clunes for a while and Gerrard worked at the sock mill and l was working at the hospital. Matron Brown offered me a job as a nurse’s aide and she and the other nurses and cleaners taught me English while l worked – they were very kind.

We first lived in a two bedroom cottage near the fire-station with a living room kitchen and bathroom and toilet outside – no shower just a bath. When we got married l didn’t have a ring we didn’t have the money only just arrived was it ok to be married without a ring and the minister said “Why not” –l wore a pale blue dress with white gloves with lace on the cuffs – the little had had a small veil and it matched my dress – Opa provided the flowers from his garden. The horse shoe was given by Mum – Gerrard brought the suit over from Holland with him. Married in 18^th February 1953 had Bert born 9^th of November the same year. We never made it to our 25^th wedding anniversary when l was to finally get my wedding ring – no engagement ring either.

We bought a bed for the bedroom a table and four chairs and two easy chairs for the lounge room the kitchen had a big wooden table which came with the house we could only afford the basic pots and pans, china and linen. Had an icebox it had a block of ice in the top the ice man came twice a week.  Gerrard made a beautiful veggie garden the soil was beautiful l got sunstroke one year picking peas he had rows and rows of peas they had to be picked and sold.  We sold them at the milk bar in Clunes and in Ballarat – tomatoes, beans, caulis, broccoli anything he grew – though he worked at the mill he loved to be outdoors. We later moved to a house near the creek no garden there because it was flooded all the house flooded so we moved to Suburban St at the back of the factory which we stayed in till we moved to the Skipton property. The house near the creek was on stilts so the water only just covered the floor. Uncle Tot will remember Bert was little we put him in his pram and Tot and Gerrard lifted the pram above their heads and carried him through the flood water.

We visited the gardens in Ballarat during the Begonia Festival and met Mr Beaumont gave Gerrard to train him as a landscape gardener while he still worked at the mill he got the bus into Ballarat in his spare time and he trained for a while and then was offered landscaping work at Langiwilly  a big property just out of Skipton Senator McKinnon                 we lived in the flat attached to the house on the property. We were there for around one year until the job was done.  Gerard then saw an advertisement for the job at Camperdown

We ended up in Camperdown where Gerrard got a job at the caravan park as a caretaker and groundsman he also worked in the botanic garden   When they closed the garden he worked on the railways building culverts right up to his death he was in his forty nine when he died of cardiomyopathy  the same as Gerry has now.  Gerrard had a beautiful veggie garden and flowers too – he didn’t like me to pick the flowers – he would bring a bunch of flowers in for me. Bert was in his twenties when his father died, the two youngest were Tony was 15 and Peter had just turned 10 - 1975.  He was a great musician – he played guitar violin keyboard eukelie and instrument he could pick up he could play – Jerry is the same – he could read music but played by ear.  

He was in and out of hospital either Camperdown Warrnambool or Geelong in a lot of pain – l used to sit up with him during the night – the boys had cars and wanted to take him to hospital – he wouldn’t let them even ring the doctor.  Before he was diagnosed he couldn’t work it took some time to find what was causing the illness – he was getting tired thin and he wasted away.  He was on a sickness pension not enough to live on so l took on a few jobs to keep us going but l couldn’t be away from home for long.  He hated not being active and able to work and depressing.

I went on the widows pension after friends told me to apply – they said the benefits would help for doctors and dentists – I declared my earnings as l went out to work cleaning ironing babysitting anything l could do to keep us going. 

I can say it wasn’t easy but we managed – the boys had all their sporting interests and didn’t go without anything and home was happy not many arguments and we all enjoyed what we did.

Gerrard is buried in Camperdown l put fresh artificial flowers on every year.

The old house outside Camperdown on the hill brick – big rooms high ceilings fireplace in the lounge room and kitchen electric stove beautiful garden thanks to Gerrard.  We had everything we needed but we weren’t rich the boys were well clothed and there was always plenty of food – they had their bikes then cars which they paid for from their wages – all in all a good lifestyle – the boys had friends which they bought home – a huge dining room was made into a games room – a billiard and tennis table darts board – it was all in that room.  All the kids came for a feed.

We moved into the house up the hill from the butter factory after Gerrard died – l bought it through compensation from the heavy lifting Gerrard did with his job which they said affected his heart – with that payout l still had just two years to pay the house off. 

Met Bill through dancing l went to all the ballroom dances. He went to all the ones l went to. He was a widower we became friends then got together. He asked me to marry him and l said “No” l didn’t want to marry again and he was quite happy with that – we had 13 years together – I moved in here (Terang) when l turned 60 – l was 73 when Bill died – I’ll be 83 in April this year 2015. I sold the house to Bert and Cheryl, who were already married and living in the house, cheaply with the permission of the other three boys and divided the money up for the other three. 

Merimbula Public School - Impressive!

 

School's Cool!

I must admit when Erin Fenech, the Merimbula Public School Librarian gave me the class numbers for my visit I was certainly challenged and wondered if the first two groups of 100 years 5 and 6 students would have enough room in the library to work on the tasks I had set for them and if the sessions might be a little rowdy.  They really got into my new spy novel and enjoyed working out what sort of animal a bunyip could be - easy for coastal kids who see seals all the time.

This session was followed by the next group of 110 years 3 and 4 students.  To my delight these well behaved kids were happy to take on whatever I asked them to do and to their credit did a fantastic job.

The focus of my visit was to explore the writing experience including where my inspiration came from.  At one point I asked them to stand up and look out the library window to the view of the estuary below.  It was breathtaking.  I explained that the best stories often come from your local area.

That huge group of 3 and 4 years wrote a story based on a letter of the Alphabet - S for Snake - B for Bear - Z for Zebra - the young girl who wanted to write about a zebra learned how helpful a dictionary could be as her Zebra enjoyed zucchini at the zoo with Zeb his zealous best mate.  At the end of this exercise I explained that adults had a lot of trouble doing what they had done so very well.

My next group of 90 were years 1 and 2 students who - to the amazement of their teachers - were pretty good at mental arithmetic - adding up clutches of emu eggs then deducting chicks as natural disasters cut back their numbers - Yep Emily Emu Chick is a great way to learn about the life story of an Emu with all the hazards of living in the bush.  

The 50 Kindergarten students had a ball acting out stories to the delight of their teachers so look out reality TV here they come!  They are also great illustrators and love to draw.

My final session was with the support group with years 1 to 6 in this group of 20 students.  They love story telling and particularly enjoyed the story My Mate Old Tom.  To everyone's delight we easily found plenty of rhyming words to make into a school poem.  One of the students is a talented rapper and he performed the poem for us.  Each of these students had a chance to pass on their knowledge and shone like diamonds.

When visiting large schools it can sometimes be overwhelming - the sheer number of students often makes the day a blur of faces and with big groups keeping them happy, busy and calm and collected is a big challenge.  To my delight the Merimbula kids were very polite and never rowdy which made the day memorable.

The teachers and Erin in particular were a great help and I know are respected by all the students - I explained how my teachers at Primary and Secondary levels gave me the inspiration to write.

Back home - after leaving this computer with the doctor of gadgets - I had time to reflect on how lucky I am to have a small measure of influence on the lives of the children in our schools.

Now I'm planning my trip into NSW in July/August and we have extended the amount of school I will be visiting -some tiny one teacher schools - others large regional city schools.  I will be seeing 7 schools in all and wish I had more time!