大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by Claire White of 大象传媒 Scotland on behalf of Tina Boag and has been added to the site with her permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

I lived in Aarschot. I left school at seventeen and found work as a book-keeper in Heyst op den Berg. There was a lot of talk round that time that the Germans were going to attack us but I thought it was only rumours. My parents, having gone through the 1914/18 war, were petrified.

On the Thursday before Easter 1940 I took the train for Heyst op den Berg but it was very slow, stopping and starting. The train stopped in the countryside and the ticket collector came telling everyone to get out and go home and contact their work. Three of us started walking; it took us nearly two hours. The neighbours were standing in groups talking but all was quiet. I saw my brother who was going to re-join his regiment. I told him to be careful and look after himself. That was the last time I saw him; he was killed in Tielt in Flanders.

On Good Friday, I went to church. When I got home, the milkman and his horse were delivering milk. My mother gave the horse some bread and they went off on their deliveries. On their way back, they passed our house and the milkman shouted that something was going to happen; the marketplace was full of Belgian soldiers.

Stukkas went overhead; they were unmarked. There was the sound of firing and then all went quiet. Later, my mother asked me to check my sister and her son were safe. I cycled along the main road. There I found the milkman and his horse lying dead. The horse had been hit in the stomach and the milkman was still sitting on his seat with his face shot away. He wasn't far from his home so I went to tell his wife what had happened. I made my way to my sister. She and her sone had been in her cellar and were safe.

That was the start of the Occupation. We weren't too worried; we knew the Co-op halls were full of Belgian soldiers. We found out later that the soldiers were German, dressed in Belgian uniforms. They set up a Koammandatur, it was: "Ihre Papieren, bitte" all the time!

I found work as a typist and telephonist in the railway offices and one day the boss told us that someone was coming to find out why so many manual workers were off sick. He came in, dressed all in black; what made it worse was that he was a Belgian traitor. He threatened what he would do if he found out they were skiving. My dad said that we should try and warn the men, which we did. When he came back he was still angry because most of the men were now back at work. No one told that they had been warned. My boss was called to Brussels to explain. The boss told them the men were guarding their gardens against theft, as they hadn't enough to eat. We got a cook and we got soup and bread; later we got a proper meal. The civilians didn't get any extras and many were starving.

One morning, about 2am, Germans stopped at our house and battered down the door, heading to the garden. They killed all my dad's pigeons; the Germans wrung their necks and I saw my dad cry. The people rounded up those girls who had German boyfriends, shaved their heads and made them eat dirt. I saw one of my friends getting this treatment. Within about a week the Germans were defeated and we had plenty to eat.

漏 Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.