大象传媒

On May 10th,1940,Holland is invaded by the Germans.
My British parents. and I (then aged two),are living in Breskens,Zeeland,Netherlands and my grandparents, one aunt and one uncle, all British, are living on the opposite side of the Scheldt estuary, in Vlissingen (Flushing)
Because the Scheldt is being bombed,( to try and destroy the Dutch Royal Family who were rumoured to be leaving from there) it is decided that the Vlissingen family would try to get to England independently of ours, and that Mum, Dad and I should try to reach Ostend and cross to England from there.
We leave Breskens on May 15th with some personal belongings packed up on two bicycles and set off through Belgium to Ostend. No boats are leaving from Ostend and eventually, after trying Dunkirk and Calais, we are advised to try Le Havre.
Cycling is becoming more arduous as the land becomes less flat and it seems like a good idea to travel by rail; so we board a train at Boulogne but the bicycles must go on another train!.The train arrives at Amiens station at 11 a.m.on the 19th May after a 24 hour journey.As the train is not quite at the platform, no-one is allowed to leave.
On the line opposite, a train is full of British airmen and their kit. This train has just left when we hear a girl calling, "Un avion! Un avion!" and also hear car horns hooting.
Luckily Mum has just picked me up and so we charge off the train. Before we have gone more than 20 metres, three bombs have fallen. Glass rains down on us from the enormous dome overhead. Ducking into a corner by a couple of sand-bags, we crouch down and Father throws his long leather coat over us all.
For a moment we hear nothing more and then Mum sees the entrance to a shelter and we rush to join the people streaming inside.It is very warm and very claustrophobic.
Suddenly a woman beside us crumples to the ground. Father breaks her fall and lays her on the ground. When a torch goes on we see that her face is covered in blood and she has deep shrapnel wounds in her legs.My parents begin to think of what might happen to us in this packed space and begin to move towards the exit. However, soldiers are covering the only way out and we are not allowed out until the "all clear" has sounded. But we take a chance and run up the steps onto the platform.
What a dreadful sight! One train, which had still been at the platform, is blown in half,all the coaches wrecked. A great viaduct is broken in two and lies across the line.
This is no time to stand around. Let's pick up the cases and get out. The whole town seems to be in flames and glass is everywhere. Everyone is leaving and we follow the crowds.. but where to? Someone points us in the direction of Rouen and we go that way. But the bicycles are, we hope, on the way to Le Havre and carrying the cases, a heavy bag,a triple briefcase and me proves to be too much. Add to this the frequent dashes into the ditches at the sides of the road whenever an aircraft approaches,(some of them are strafing the roads,regardless of civilians) we decide to throw away one suitcase. Father looks through everything, re-packs and then a suitcase, full of good clothes etc., stays at the side of the road.
We have had nothing to eat or drink since we left Boulogne. Travellers in cars and on bicycles, who have overtaken us, have also bought everything they could in every village or small shop along the way. Father manages to get a bottle of wine, two small rolls of biscuis and a tin of pears from a small cafe. Better than nothing!
Somewhere between Amiens and Poix, we see a few houses just off the road. As it is now 8 p.m. we feel it is time to find somewhere to sleep. No luck! Every house is full to overflowing. Eventually we find a barn where several people are lying next to the horses. We ask if there is room for us and after they move up a little... at least we have a roof over our heads and, besides, we are so dog-tired we are more than satisfied.
The following morning, Monday,20th May, after a sustaining breakfast of biscuits,we set off again. Dragging ourselves along, hurtling into ditches, then on again- so it goes.Carrying the luggage becomes more and more impossible and so we consign suitcase no. 2 to the ditch. A few things are first removed and tied up in a knitted woollen blanket and off we go.
Now we are real refugees! Completely tired out, carrying bundles of clothes and with blankets draped roung our necks we trudge on. The funny thing is, we have no idea how to get to Le Havre or even in which direction it is. After Amiens, we certainly do not want to be on a train or even a platform!
To be continued....

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