May 05, 2003
Bevrijdingsdag
As well as being Mike's 8th birthday, yesterday was Memorial Day, a national holiday here, complete with flags flown at half mast and a few minutes of silence, in remembrance of those who died during the War. And today is Liberation Day, celebrating the end of the Nazi occupation of the Netherlands.
When I first arrived here, 20 odd years ago, I was surprised to see just how 'alive' World War II was, not the closed and dusty chapter that it was in America. When one of the numerous television documentaries about the War ended, there would always be a short advertisement, giving a telephone number one could call if the program had brought back memories, bad memories from the past.
Even Han's family, tucked away in tiny villages in the boonies, has their stories. Han's mother still relates how annoyed her father was when the Nazis took his horse and Han's father's family tells tales of the cousin who was taken away for forced labor and never returned.
Han's father, Piet was the youngest of 4 brothers and remembers hiding between the sliding doors of the parlor when the round-ups for the labor camps were being made, of tucking Granny under the staircase during the bombings, and the great kindness one of the young german soldiers quartered in their home showed the family.
Once Piet was a grown man, he spent many years tracking down that one german soldier and in 1983, the first year that I was here, they finally met again. In fact, I was there when they met and listened in as they talked about the old days and what had happened afterwords. The german soldier had been sent to the eastern front and ultimately ended up in a POW camp in the UK, where he stayed, eventually becoming a UK citizen.
Four years ago, they met up again, this time in Plymouth, and once again they went over those gone days. They knew it would be the last time that they saw each other, the german soldier was dying and so they said their goodbyes. A few months after their reunion, we received notice that he had died.
Last night in our village, flowers were placed on the memorial to those who died when the city hall was blown up, collapsing upon the hundreds of villagers who had taken refuge in the cellars below. And in the crowd which gathered, were brothers and sisters, cousins and children of those who had died.
Posted by at May 5, 2003 10:58 AMToday is a memorial day for victims of the Nazis in Austria as well. A service was held in Vienna this morning, attended by the president and other VIPs. At 12.30, 45 minutes ago, school pupils released tens of thousands of white balloons; they had also researched the biographies of many victims as part of a project called "Letters to the Stars", which has a website here: http://www.lettertothestars.at/index2.html
Meanwhile, last April 20, (Hitler's birthday), skinheads in the town near where I live harassed a Turkish deli owner and people at a local disco.
Posted by: Mig at May 5, 2003 11:20 AMA wonderful post. Piet certainly has lived an interesting life. I had no idea that the war remains to be so alive in Europe, and that it continues to touch so many lives.
Posted by: kane at May 5, 2003 11:37 AMMy family has it's stories too. My 93 year old grandmother refuses to talk about her memories though, the wounds are still too sore.
Posted by: Marjan at May 5, 2003 12:29 PMThis story really touched me - thankyou for sharing it.
When I first arrived in Europe, it surprised me too - that the reality of the wars is still so alive here - coming from a country which was very removed from the wars, except to send our soldiers out to fight.
Posted by: Katia at May 5, 2003 03:12 PMIt seems to me that even those American men who fought in World War II have very little idea of what it meant to live through the war. There is no one alive in America who remembers what it was like the last time war was waged here, and that explains rather a lot.
Posted by: Brian at May 5, 2003 03:37 PMi truly think that occupation is something no-one can understand if they have not experienced it. we are so blessed. we, the young - most of us - have never known this kind of real physical fear, and have no idea of how it can affect every move and every breath, every day. the bravery in these stories is inspiring, and humbling, all at once.
Posted by: lynn at May 5, 2003 07:40 PM