大象传媒

In 1936 my then 19-year old grandmother Christina Holzinger, or Christel as she was called, read an ad in the Austrian daily paper, asking for girls to work in the Kurhaus Hotel in Scheveningen, Holland. As there was huge unemployment in her town Vienna, she had not been able to find a job since leaving school at the age of 16. She was unmarried, and thus still living at home with her two parents, three sisters and two brothers. Her family was very catholic, and her father ruled with an iron fist. She saw the ad and realised this could be her break. She responded to the ad and got the job. Despite her mother's objections, she got on the train and set off for Holland. Halfway through the journey, right smack-bang in Nazi Germany, she had to change trains. Due to earlier delays, she missed her connection and had to sit in the rail station for the entire night, waiting for the next one. She saw several groups of nazi soldiers march right past the station, and had felt quite uneasy. Eventhough her father had never been a particularly warm or loving person, and at the same time had nurtured a great love for uniforms (he worked for the Vienna fire department), he and the rest of my grandmother's family had always had a deep distrust and dislike of Hitler and his political party.
Eventually her train arrived. Many hours later, she found herself, utterly exhausted, in the servant's quarter of the Kurhaus Hotel. A young man, a waiter, kept sticking his head round the corner and asking her in his best German if she was alright. This annoyed her to bits. But not for too long though, because after a while, they started courting. After 2 years the waiter, my grandfather, plucked up the courage to ask her to marry him. She said yes. No date was set though, because my grandmother's parents were dead against her marrying this protestant man, also 19 years her senior. The only response she got, was from her younger brother Emiel. He too was sceptical about her wedding plans, but he did not want to lose touch with his sister over it. As my grandmother was trying to smooth things over with her family, Hitler invaded Poland and then Austria. He made it known that he expected all the Polish and Austrian girls to go back home and work the factories. My grandparents got worried. By then, my grandfather was no longer working as a waiter in a hotel, but on a cruise ship between Brazil and Rotterdam. One day, it was time for another round of work, to sail to brazil and back again. He said goodby to my grandmother and set off. A couple of hours later he was back; he had missed the boat, he said. My brandmother was livid, as this meant he had just lost his job. A few weeks later, Hitler invaded Holland and the borders got closed. Had he been on that boat, he would not have been able to get back to my grandmother for the entire duration of the war. "It was like he knew", my grandmother told me later. Quickly, they decided to get married, that way my grandmother would get Dutch nationality and would not be forced to move back to Vienna. She managed to keep her job till 1941. After that, they moved from The Hague to Delft. My grandfather was too old to be forced to join any army, as he was born in 1897, and the Germans made him chop wood. My grandmother's brothers in Vienna however, were not so lucky. They were both forced to join Hitler's army. Karl, her elder brother, ended up being sent to the Russian front. Nothing was heard from him after that, apart from the "missing in action" document his parents received. Eventhough she was not close with Karl, she was devistated. Her younger brother Emiel, was first stationed in Holland, which gave them the oppertunity to meet up during his leave time. Then he was shipped off to northern Africa. He spent at least several months there. After the war was officially declared over, and all the soldiers started retreating back to Germany, he and his fellow soldiers got on a boat to cross the mediteranian to Italy. As they were all standing round and talking on the front of the boat, they heard a noise. It was an airplane, on fire and headed down. Great clouds of smoke were coming from it, as it was directly headed towards their boat. Emiel started screaming for everybody to move away from the front and towards the back of the boat. There was a lot of panic as everybody scurried away towards the back. In no time, the front part of the boat was empty, but for one person. Emiel stayed put and waited for the plane to crash into the boat.
No remains were found of my uncle.
Nobody knows what happened in Northern Africa, what went on with Emiel during his time there. He did not send any letters home during that time. I know my grandmother was heartbroken, as she was very close to Emiel. He left behind a young wife and child.

I work as a teacher in a Duth comprehensive school. A few months ago, WW2 was being discussed in history class. A few of my students mentioned this, saying someting along the lined of "they killed all the jews, miss. They were animals, the lot of them!". My uncle wore a Nazi uniform, yet he was no animal. I told them this story, and for the first time in month, you could hear a pin drop in my classroom. It is easy to generalise, but like in all conflicts, there is always more than meets the eye.

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