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QUIET HEROES AND DEADLY RISKS (1)
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A military patrol ahead of the advancing British troops entering the town of Utrecht in the centre of the Netherlands in 1945 represented the first British mortals I ever saw after five years of German occupation. I was 8 years old, but still remember a tremendous sense of excitement with the streets filled with euphoric and jubilant people. For a few Dutchmen, however, these were the most dangerous moments of the war, but for me they were unforgettable moments that will stay forever, often with a strong sense of gratitude to the British for what they did for us in German occupied Europe. Little did I realize that eventually I would spend much of my life in England !
The ecstasy of being free at last , something that I had only been able to imagine since I was too young to remember the outbreak of the war, had in fact followed two very dramatic incidents hours before the Allies arrived. Based on strong rumours that the British Army had reached the outskirts of Utrecht, neighbours on the square where we lived decided to do something they had been looking forward to for years, namely to put out the Dutch flag. Unfortunately there were still one or two young fanatical Germans about, trying to get out of Utrecht on time . They saw the flag hanging neighbours, stopped their car and shot the elderly man. He must have been one of the last innocent victims of the war in Holland.
The second incident that happened during those final few hours could have been equally fatal to my parents. It had, of course, been kept quiet that my father had a leading position in the Dutch underground., What was particularly useful in this respect was that he had an off-license shop, selling something that was very much in demand by a number of German officers , particularly as it was in very short supply during the war, namely Dutch gin! They arrived in full tenu and military cars often during curfew hours, sometimes bringing us fresh food, in the hope of persuading my father to supply them with alcohol. All this, of course, had not gone unnoticed to people in the area, but what nobody knew was that as a result of his excellent relationship with the Germans, he often obtained important military secrets which were then past on to the Dutch underground and to London.. All this at a dreadful personal risk if found out… These dangers were not exactly over when the war came to an end because the worst part was still to come when local people not knowing what my father had really been doing, were getting ready to lynch him the moment the Germans moved out……
Fortunately, British Intelligence had done its job by sending a few small military patrols ahead of the advancing army to explain and protect people like my father that he was no a traitor but someone who had given the Allies vital information often at dreadful risk to himself and his family. They arrived just in time before some of our neighbours had a chance of sharpening their knives ! I remember posters put up outside the shop for several weeks after the war to explain my fathers position. Those final hours before the tanks arrived were among the most memorable moments in the whole war to this 8 year old boy.
It is ironic to think that my parents could have been killed by their own people due to misunderstandings about the role my father played during the war and the risks he took for his country.
Not even my mother knew everything , because the whole idea of my father gaining the confidence of the Germans was a very slow process. Even years after the war had ended, several people in our locality still kept away from my parents and even forbad their children to play with me … something I never understood till much later.
Another reason why my father played a very dangerous game indeed was that in addition to his work for the Dutch underground, my parents had also been hiding Jews and helping them on their way to saver areas abroad. A separate chapter could be written about the ingenious ways Jews were hidden . In our case just a few yards away from the perhaps fortunately half-intoxicated German officers. Also, incidentally inches away from where I was sleeping without me noticing anything apart from the odd cough I assumed to be my fathers. It was a very dangerous game my father played because the penalties were very severe. We would not have survived the war if he had been caught, which sometimes makes me wonder if he was a fool or a hero , considering the lives of me and my mother were also at stake. The Germans took no half measures.

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