大象传媒

The following story appears courtesy of and with thanks to Gord and Leslie Davison.

Around three PM a lone bicyclist came and introduced himself as a member of the "Onderduikers". He told us that we would be split up and would go to different families who had agreed to take us until some other plan was devised for our eventual return to the allied lines. He asked us who would like to go first and, as the to glider pilots wanted to stay together, and captain Noble said he would go last, I went with this man, who I know as Jan ter Wall, on the crossbar of his bicycle. We traveled along forest footpaths and side roads and for about three-quarters of an hour and finally came to a small village, where we stopped at a typical Dutch residence and I was ushered inside. I was introduced to the family which consisted of Ma and Pa, four sons and a maid, only two of them gave me their names, these were two of the teenage sons, Jan and Faulkner.
It turned out that these two were the only active members of the underground in the family, but in effect, it didn't make much difference if you were active or not if you were found hiding escapers. The penalty was a shot in head for the whole family and the burning of the House. I found myself constantly amazed at these new at these brave people, especially when I discovered that there was a small contingent of German soldiers billeted only a few doors away. The head of the family was the manager of the local public baths and consequently had frequent dealings with the "Moffen" (derogatory slang for Germans). In fact some of the German noncommissioned officers would come in for coffee in the mornings while I would sit in the living room, in civilian clothes and pretend to be the "deaf and dumb cousins from Amsterdam ".
Like most of the Dutch people who helped us, Dijkstra's (I only learned and named after the war), were very religious and we always said grace before meals with a short reading of the Bible afterwards. On the only Sunday I was with them I was left at the House with the oldest son while they all went off to church. Also on that same Sunday afternoon, Jan and Faulkner asked me if I would like to accompany them on a walk in the woods. I suggested and that this might be dangerous for all of us but they pooh-poohed the idea said not to worry as they were well known to the local soldiers and I had already been accounted for as the cousins from Amsterdam. It was quite an experience to be walking around and nodding to the Germans whom we met frequently.
After being with the Dijkstra's for about 10 days, Jan ter Wall came and spent some time talking with family, after which he told me to get my things as we were going to another safe house. I asked if there was a problem and he said yes, the Moffen were making frequent raids trying to find the escapers who had been ambushed on " Pegasus Two". Pegasus one was a similar operation, a few weeks earlier that had succeeded. The Germans were making house-to-house searches as they were aware that about one hundred of us were in the vicinity and it was obvious that we were being hidden by the local populace.
In view of this it had been decided that I would be safer and some other place, quite some distance from where I was. Consequently I left with Jan, on the crossbar of his bicycle again, and rode in this manner for about 15 km to a farm, which I found out after the war, was in the village of Scherpenzeel When we arrived I was surprised to find to paratroopers already in residence and also this place was Jan's hideout. I was introduced to the family, Wynand the, the farmer, his wife Maagi and two boys whose names I have forgotten. The two paras also introduced themselves. They were Sergeant Keith "Tex" Banwell and Vic Moore, a private from the first battalion.
These two had been there for two weeks, since immediately after the Pegasus two ambush. We three Paras slept in the chicken house and spent our days helping with farm chores, it was the least we could do, considering that Wynand and his family were risking their lives and property by hiding us. A few days after I had arrived we were told that there was a "Razzia" going on in the area and that we would have to go into the woods at the rear of the farm right away. The SS were constantly making raids on the farms and houses, rounding up all males between his 16 and 65 for work on the defense's on the river Ijsel. They also probably hoped to find some of the escapers in the process.
We were all dressed in coveralls and wearing "Klompen" (Dutch wooden clogs), so that we became part of the landscape when working outside in the fields. Jan, who was the only Dutch person at the farm could speak English, said that we should run quickly into the bush at the rear of the farm, split up and hide wherever we could find a suitable spot. This way, if the SS caught anyone, the others had a good chance of being an undetected. Whilst running across the ploughed fields, which were quite muddy, I lost one of my wooden clogs, I then stepped out of the other one as it was impeding my progress, picked up both shoes and ran with them into the woods. Maagi, Wynan's wife, and the children stayed in the farmhouse whilst an SS officer and four other ranks searched the house thoroughly to no avail. Jan told us afterwards that Maagi and the children had been questioned at some length, by the SS officer, as to the whereabouts of the farmer and apparently convinced him that he had already been taken away for forced labor.
After the raid the farm returned to its usual routine, which included numerous visits by various underground members who used it as a meeting place to plan their sabotage raids against the Germans. It was also used as a resting-place and safe house for the Onderduikers and escapers on the move. A frequent visitor was "Willems" who was a captain in the underground army and leader of the local group. I have known Willems as Henk van Bentum since 1969, which was the first time I had attended the annual reunions and remembrances of the battle of Arnhem. These are held always on a weekend after September 17th, which was the date of the original and drop.
Henk began as small transport company after the war, which grew into one of the larger trucking, companies in Holland and retired some years ago. Both Henk and Wynand were honored by the American people for their work in hiding and assisting U.S. flyers to escape. They were presented with special medals and certificates of appreciation by President Carter in Washington D.C. Our evenings on the farm were spent discussing ways and means of crossing the Rhine, which was about 20 km to the south, as we knew that the south bank of the river, in this area, was held by Allied troops. However this was not going to be easy.
All civilians had been evacuated from an area of approximately 10 km in parallel to the of the north bank of the river and this area was in a fact, the front line of the battlefield, heavily populated by German troops of all kinds. Any attempt to get to the river and swim across, which was my own answer to the problem, meant passing through these enemy forces without being detected. Willems, Jan and other underground members, would be part of these conversations from time to time and tried to convince us not to try it alone. They said, without the help of the underground as guides we would surely be caught and thus would endanger their organization and themselves. Their fear was that he would be interrogated in probably tortured into revealing where we had been hiding the last three months.
The underground was in touch, by radio, with the allies and was positive that another attempt to ferry the escapers and evaders across the river will be made soon. Two previous actions had met with two completely different results. "Pegasus One" was the code word for the first scheme to repatriate the numerous evaders who were wondering around the countryside immediately after the battle.
About 150 were gathered in various hiding places and ground the end of October were ferried across the Rhine by Allied troops from the south side under covering fire. Pegasus Two" was to be a similar operation whereby about 120 escapees of all kinds, paratroopers, Allied airmen who had been shot down and glider pilots were going to be ferried across the river. This operation, of which I was part, had been described earlier in this narrative and was a complete disaster, due, I understand, to someone giving old game away to the Germans. Jan and Willems were insistent that we not try to get home alone, but I was equally insistent that I wanted to be home for Christmas.
I pointed out that, as there were no immediate plans to get us across the river, we should be allowed to try. They finally agreed that we could try on our own, however this brought up a problem, Vic could not swim and I had half promised him that I would not go without him. Our problem was solved the next day when one of the Onderduikers brought us of one man and a rubber dinghy. This had been retrieved from one of our aircraft, which had been shot down in the vicinity, and was just what we needed. Tex, Vic and I unpacked it, blew it up with the attached hand pump and put it in the duck pond. However when we all tried to get in it promptly sank and it was obvious that all three of us could not get across the river in one trip. As two trips were out of the question it was decided that Vic and I would go and Tex would stay behind and take his chances with the resistance.
After some discussion with Jan and Wynand, it was decided that we would leave the next evening, December 5th, and that Wynand would take us on bicycles as close to the river as possible, after that we would be on our own. The next evening, after saying our good-byes to the families and Jan, we set off Wynand in front in the usual fashion, Vic, carrying two fence posts and myself carrying a burlap sack with the boat in it. After about a half an hour Wynand stopped and waved at us to come to him.
We were at a T-junction of the name Utrecht-Arnhem and a much narrower road running south. Wynand pointed down the small road, said, "Dar ist ter Rhine", shook our hands and wished us the best of luck. Vic and I carried on, riding our tire-less bicycles for about another 15 minutes, at which point we were challenged, our of the pitch blackness, with the words "Wer Dah". I took this is to be the equivalent of our "who goes there" and motioned to Vic to keep quiet and ride like hell. However I supposed Vic was so excited about being so close to getting away, that he shouted something unprintable at the challenger who promptly started firing a rifle in our direction.
It was apparent that, as we could not see the sentry, he could not see us, as it was very dark and sleeting. We pedaled as hard as we could and, fortunately, there was no hue and cry and the firing stopped. I suggested to Vic that we should dump the bicycles as the noise made by the tire-less wheels quite loud. We were obviously right into the enemy lines and probably would not be so lucky next time we encountered any of them. He agreed so we dumped the bicycles in the ditch and started walking. This, of course, slowed us down considerably and it soon got to five AM with no river in sight.
We discussed at our situation in view of the fact that it would soon be getting light and decided to find a place and hole up. Our intention was to carry on as soon as darkness fell. We soon found and abandoned farm and went into the deserted cow shed and up into the hay on the second floor. Having been walking for most of the night were soon fast asleep.

Continued...
'This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by 大象传媒 Radio Merseyside鈥檚 People鈥檚 War team on behalf of the author and has been added to the site with his / her permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.'

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