Mother dies and a baby is born

In February of 1945, my mother passed away, I believe it was on the 21st. According to the doctor, she died simply from old age, at 77. The funeral was 5 days later. Alie (Albert’s wife) was, at that time, in the town of Nieuwe Pekela with her sister. We had just arrived back home from the cemetery, when a telegram arrived for Albert. A little daughter had been born. That was Stina Beekhuis. Also, It was also the birthday of Annie, my sister-in-law. Albert immediately jumped on his bike to Nieuwe Pekela. And so you have sorrow and joy all at the same time. The weeks passed and April arrived in the land. The weather was beautiful and sunny and we were off to sow and plant.

The Canadians are coming

Suddenly, rumour had it that the Canadians were about to show up. We had a mare that was about to foal, but under difficult circumstances. The telephone connections had long been severed by the occupiers, who had retreated to the town of Winschoten. So I had to bike to the veterinarian. It was quiet on the road and there was not a soul in sight. But, at the High Bridge, I was stopped by the Germans and had to show my ID as well as explain my presence there and where I was headed. I told them my story and they seemed to understand and let me through.

Between the High Bridge (Hoge Brug) and Winschoten, there were nothing but German soldiers, who all let me through. Upon arrival, I told the veterinarian my problem, but there was no way he was going to come. He told me what to do and that was that, but that he would not come, given the dire possibility of an all-out fight between the two armies.

At the railroad crossing on the way home, the road was swarming with Winschoter citizens held back by the German troops, including a good friend, Mr. van der End. He asked, “what are you doing here? There is no way for you to get home. “They are not allowing anyone through.” I said, we’ll see about that,” and walked my bike over to the German guards. I explained that I had been to the vet and that my horse was delivering a foal with plenty of problems and I had to get home to Blijham where I live, and so they let me through. They also let me through back over the High Bridge and from there I saw no one else on the road.

Shortly after I got home, we saw army tanks go by and suddenly also saw that “de Kleine Molen” (the Small Mill) was on fire. Later on we heard that German soldiers had hidden in the top of the mill as a lookout point so the tanks opened fire on it and set it on fire. That was about 11 in the morning.

Building a shelter in the garden

We heard steady artillery fire from direction Wedderveer, and for that reason uncle Albert and our “onderduikers”, the Schonewilles, were busy building a shelter in the garden. First a double ring of large heavy straw bales, then a third row over the top bridging the gap and a thick layer of dirt to follow. All the while working between heavy shelling breaks. By 12 noon, the shelter was ready. By that time, we were hearing bullets from small arms fire whistle by our house.

When we went into the house later that afternoon, we could see the different bullet holes in the ceiling and roof above the barn. So it was close by. Suddenly we saw a large troop of German soldiers coming our way trying to escape. They threw off their coats and hid their weapons under the undergrowth along the ditches between our home and our neighbours and fled further away toward the Turfweg (Peatway). We had locked all of our doors so they could not get in and hid in the barn.

After a little while, another group of German soldiers came along across the fields and headed for the Wouters home, another of our neighbours. We saw two soldiers drop, while the rest ran through the side door of the Wouters house in order to hide in the attached barn. Two Canadians stormed the farm, one went to the soldiers that had been shot, while the other jumped into the ditch next to the house and lobbed a couple of hand grenades against the house. He then jumped back out of the ditch, headed for the door, kicked it open and out they came, one by one, hands up high. He quickly searched each soldier and took away their weapons, then went inside and came back out with another arm full of guns. He then sent them ahead, as he followed, to the village where they would be loaded onto trucks and brought behind the front lines as prisoners of war.

A farm burns

A little later, we could see farmer Wisman’s farmhouse and barn on fire. Here’s how that happened. They had been taking shelter in the basement of the house and detected that German soldiers had taken shelter in their barn. Suddenly there was loud knocking on the door and Mr. Wisman opened up. The Canadian soldier indicated that they had to leave because they were going to bombard the place with tanks guns. They all ran out and found a ditch to hide in at some distance from the barn and watched as an army tank in their driveway opened fire, and soon the place was inflames—six horses and four cows perished in the flames.

Again, suddenly we saw our neighbour, Mr. Sterenborg, running up our path. We—Albert, the Schonewille’s and I—ran out to follow him and help where we could, first to the wounded soldiers that had been shot. The first one was absolutely dead and the second one badly wounded in the chest and stomach and was obviously in great pain. Oh, said the Canadian soldier to him, why did you just not capitulate, to which his response was “Never!”. Obviously a fanatic Nazi as well as Feldwebel. Another German soldier, who also stood there said, “I would have capitulated, but he would not allow it.” He himself was shot through the hand and bleeding heavily. After we had bandaged up all the wounded we put one on the bran cart with an old blanket under him and so had to carry him to the village, where the Dutch flags were out now and there were somewhat premature festivities to celebrate liberation, even  while the Canadian troops were moving on further to the front. After watching this for a while, I thought about my wife and children and decided that I’d better head for home. I told Albert, I’m heading home and started to walk down the Waalkens laneway over the sand path towards home.

Suddenly I became a target

At the tram station, a group of Canadian soldiers had barricaded themselves in and suddenly started shooting at me—the bullets zipped all around me. I took my hat off and started waving it. They stopped and I resumed my walk. The Lord saved me! I was very nervous, but fortunately was not hit. When I came home, I told Dina all that had happened and also that the family Wisman was on its way over to our farm. So again, we were asked to extend help.

They arrived soon and came into our house and shared their terrifying experiences. They were quite upset that they were not given the time to move out their furniture and livestock before the farm buildings were fired upon and destroyed in the resulting fire. Their feelings were obviously understandable, but this was war and then you have different laws. That evening we just sat in the living room, nobody was thinking about going to sleep. It kept coming up in our hearts, we are free!!

Taking away the dead and wounded

Suddenly there was knock at the door. A man and woman with a child stood on the front steps, visibly upset. Mr. Hekman stood behind them. They started telling us their story, but we had a hard time understanding. It turned out they had fled into the fields while coming under heavy fire from two sides, and eventually found shelter in a ditch and were afraid to go further. Initially that seemed to be the safest option, until allied fighter planes arrived and begun to strafe the German troops that were located on the Winschoter City side of the canal. This also resulted in one of the young girls of that family being killed and the other badly wounded, and so they came to ask for help.

Mr. Hekman had brought a gurney and asked us to bring a ladder that could be used as a second gurney. The woman stayed at our home while the husband/father came with us to give us directions. So we went with the four of us on a rescue mission. Albert and I, as well as our two underground guests, the Schonewilles. The younger one, Jan insisted he come along, and his Dad gave him permission and so we went. Along the way we also enlisted one of our neighbours, Mr. Sterenborg, an energetic guy, as well as as a young man from the Kuiper family because we needed about 9 people.

In the darkness of night we moved along back trails as silently as possible. Eventually we came to the Turfweg and soon turned to the right, back into the fields and eventually to our destination. It was a warm night and we couldn’t hear a thing. We laid the dead girl’s body on the ladder and the wounded girl on the gurney and headed back to the Turfweg.

We now had to find the public school that had been equipped as a hospital with doctors and nurses. We quietly deliberated on whether we should take the backroads (vondelpad) or the main road, but could not come to a consensus. The leader decided that we take the main road. This was the most dangerous path to take, since it was occupied by the Canadian forces. It all went well until we came to the residence of Mr. Hovinga.

Suddenly a shout of “halt” and bullets striking the cobblestones. Our leader shouted a password and everything became quiet as he went on ahead and shared our mission. We had to set down our gurneys and stay where we were. They had to get the approval of their commander, who had to come out of his bed at the distant Buining farm, so it took quite some time before we could proceed. Now with the Commander in the lead, along with our leader, we soon arrived at the school and dropped off our burden. It was now early morning and beginning of a new day. Those were some of our war time experiences.

Fleeing German troops

Another thing that I almost forgot. Fleeing Germans had, on their way to the German border via the village of Bellingwolde, taken a horse and farmers wagon. They had jumped on the wagon and headed towards Blijham but suddenly saw the Canadian troops and turned around, but then promptly ran into other allied troops which made them turn into the Keizer farmyard where they were quickly surrounded and taken prisoner.

Everything now moved quickly. The allied troops had moved up from the province of Brabant, crossed the Maas River into Germany and, via the city of Arnhem, back into our country, heading north as they swept the country clean of the oppressors. From there they moved further to the western part of our country, where there was still a substantial presence of the German army. By the 5th of May, 1945 all of the Netherlands had been freed.

What joy, but also deep sorrow for so many who lost their lives for the cause of freedom. So many young men and fathers who did not see the liberation, but also many who experienced a much greater liberation from tragedy and sin. And we remember all those who died from hunger and disease. What a crowd who could not experience liberation.

Unfortunately, even now, the tragedy was not over and other difficulties arose. The country now came under the control of the military. All the traitors (NSB’ers) were rounded up and those suspected of major crimes imprisoned. All were to be judged and sentenced, which took a huge amount of time. Those with light sentences were dealt with first and were soon set free.

Supervision of NSB’er Farms

Many farm operations, owned by NSB’ers, needed people to be appointed for the purpose of operating those businesses on a temporary basis. All of this fell under the jurisdiction of the Provincial Food Commissioners, who were locally or town council appointed, and held accountable by these various jurisdictions. That there were many mistakes made in the beginning is understandable. But let me go back to our own personal lives. We also soon were called on to participate and supervise three farms in our region, Engelkes farm in Wedderveer, Nieks farm in the same district and the B.Bessembider farm in Hoorn. All three farmers were arrested and held in confinement. The first two names above had never participated in the collaborative movement of the NSB but nevertheless had signed up as members.

I visited their farms in the sequence above. The Engelkes family, with a son and daughter at home, could handle their farm with no problem and the Nieks farm with the mother at home and a hired hand could also manage, even though two sons had been arrested. The third farm, B.Bessembinder’s, was an altogether different story, where no one was prepared to lend a hand except for his brother Cotje Bessembinder, who was still milking and feeding the cows at 10 p.m. in the evening, while a neighbour farmer, R.Bos, was watching. I asked them if they were willing to continue to look after the livestock.

Now, they said they would, but only if they were to be officially authorized. They were not prepared to do this just on their own. I told them that I would get in touch with the right people to get this authorized. From there, I went too Mr. van der Steeg, who had been appointed recently to look after this region. I shared with him that I had visited the three farms and that they would be able to carry on. So that fortunately freed me from this obligation. During the next few weeks, things remained calm so that we could finish the work on our own farm.

The farm of Mr. Bots in Wedderveer

The first week in May 1945 everything started to settle down somewhat, until someone came again to see if I could take a look at the farm of Mr. H.Bots, a dedicated NSB’er (Nationalist Social Party aligned with the German occupier) who had been imprisoned in the city of Winschoten. Even though I initially resisted and told them that I had my own farm business to look after and was not about to neglect my own business for that of an NSB’er, he insisted that I at least should take a look.

So, reluctantly, I took the afternoon to make that visit. There were two farm labourers busy planting potatoes when I arrived. I had a brief conversation with those two then proceeded further to take a look at the rest of the farm. Over the past several years the land had been neglected and become infested with twitch grass and weeds of every kind. The rye fields were choked with rye flowers and the oat fields had been seeded but were badly in need off further tilling. Additionally, the rapeseed fields had not been planted and only last year’s leftover seeds had now begun to sprout. The one farm labourer had been appointed as the overseer but I could readily tell that he had not taken any initiatives.

On the way back I ran into Mr. van der Steeg who asked, “how does it look”. I told him that it did not look good and would require a lot of work and that the farm had been very badly neglected. His response was one of surprise that it was that bad, so we decided to take another look with the two of us, since he himself had not done a detailed inspection. In the meantime, the workday had ended at 5 p.m. and the farm labourers were already on their way home. They had their steady hours and, not only that, worked no harder than what they felt comfortable with. We then proceeded to do our thorough inspection and he agreed with my earlier assessment.

He now requested that I take on the temporary role of supervisor for this farm and be compensated on a weekly basis. “You hire as many people as you can get and you will only need to be here half days and  then we will be satisfied with that,” he told me. I told him, “what about my own farm? I have no appetite for this,” to which he responded, only for two weeks, then we’ll see again. We have been told by our authorities to get the farm back in good shape and maximize crop yields. I told him that I certainly was prepared to cooperate, but they could not demand the impossible from me. To which he replied, yes but that is the case for all of us. The farm over which I’m the supervisor I also need to spend day and night, and then some. My response to this was, yes, but you have the advantage of a well looked after farm and a great, well-motivated staff where everyone does their very best to get the work at hand done on time, which allows you to let some things slip here and there without any significant damage. Well he said, then you can get one of my labourers, but you have to help me out.

I become the supervisor in Wedderveer

So I promised to give it a try but with the condition that he would try his best to find another person. The next morning the farm labourer Mr. J.Koning and I headed for Weddeveer. First, I had to try to hire more staff and managed to bring in three young men of whom two went to cultivate the fields and the third helped plant potatoes. The soil soon became more manageable, but the twitch grass just wouldn’t die due to the frequent rains we had, and nothing would dry and die off. We still had to plant 25 acres of potatoes. Additionally, we had a shortage of fertilizer. Mr. Bots had sold his fertilizer allowance on the black market and so I had to trot off to Mr. van der Steeg with the question of what to do next. He promised to see what he could do. I said then he should also ask for a fertilizer that would kill the rye flowers that were choking the rye crop. His response was that, where there is nothing, the King loses his rights. So we got a little fertilizer and three bales of ‘stikstof’ to kill the rye flowers. Everything we got we could put on one wagon. Later in June, we ended up purchasing a little more ‘stikstof’ on the blackmarket from Jansen Seeds in Winschoten. This we spread over the potatoes and the rest over the most weed infested areas in the fields.

Altogether, we had a not so pleasant summer. I was away from home a great deal and when I did come home there were always things that had gone wrong, which made my wife sad and me short tempered. The hired staff were a source of frustration as well, as they had little desire to work and would rather just loaf around. They preferred to work as guards over the captured NSB’ers and I saw the laziest of them with rifles slung over their shoulders trooping after the prisoners as they were working the fields. During the summer we had access to the NSB woman prisoners to help hoe and weed the crops and so we applied and got a couple assigned to our farm. They came for two days and were just amazing, as they pulled most of the rye flowers and large weeds from the crops. Those were woman who knew how to work.

My wife brought out a large kettle of coffee, for which they were very grateful, as they never received this elsewhere, they told us. On the way home I talked with some of them, including Mrs. A.de Jong and Mrs. K. ten Have. I told them they had done very well which I appreciated, but one of them said the nasty guard with the rifle constantly harassed them to work harder. Now, I certainly believed her since they had the laziest character as a guard. The best labourers were not interested in being a guard over those prisoners that were working in the fields.

Fairly soon other problems reared up, especially money. Every farm had to try to balance their own budget. The first several weeks I managed to pay for the labour from the funds that were there, but soon thereafter ran out. How to go from here? I told Mr. van der Steeg that my source of funds had run out. He advised me to go the Farmers Loan Bank in Wedde, where Mr. Bots had his account, and see what was left. But I told him, do you think they’ll just give me the money assuming there is any. You are a banker yourself so tell me if the cashier would have the authority to do so and would I be authorized to manage the Bots bank account. He said, you would not, but I’ll discuss with the Commissioner of Food and this could be a first test case.

I went off to the bank but soon learned that there was a zero balance in the Bots account. The cashier advised me that he would seek an answer as to where we could go from here. Off to Mr. van der Steeg I went again to tell him of the outcome, who then said, well there are still potatoes in storage on the farm and I’ll have those shipped out next week, and so that’s what happened. The potatoes fetched a good price and so, for now, the money crisis had passed. In the meantime, I had, again, with the counsel of van der Steeg, advanced some of my own monies.

They wish to talk to me

One day Mr. van der Steeg came along with the Chief Inspector from the town of Zuidhorn. They wanted to have a talk with me and asked me what it is that I wanted. They were in the field with me and said that yes, this farm is for lease for a period of six years, and if you’re interested we’ll give you the right of first refusal, without making it public, and that, by the way, this year we are in won’t be counted. The chief inspector had observed that I had obviously done a good job and for that reason alone had come to make this proposal.  I said I would be interested but told them that I first wanted to discuss this with my wife, to which they readily agreed.

So I went ahead via the back trails (mainly sand filled narrow foot/bike paths) to our own farm to discuss with Mom. She was not overly enthusiastic, to which my response was well you were always keen on leaving this place behind because it was old and in poor repair. The Wedderveer farm is very nice and modern, well-appointed and on a paved road. We’d be away from this messy place to something modern and much more convenient. Yes, she replied but what about the NSB’er. I agreed with her, but what can they do to us if anything. You will have to make the decision, was her reply, it’s good enough for me if you decide to take that risk.

When the Chief Inspector arrived, I asked for an extension of one day, to which he readily agreed. The price was eventually set at 40 guilders per ‘deimt’ (approx. 1 acre), the same price as what we had been paying on the old farm in Blijham. Twenty-two deimt was part of the deal plus a portion that was owned by the family Snitter, which made for a total of 66 acres. I really had a good appetite for taking this deal and, after further deliberation, decided to take the offer. In retrospect, this turned out on the one hand be a very good move, but on the other, it  led eventually to the decision to emigrate to Canada, which really became a challenge for me.