Déjàs vu…. World War II

Learning to live in fear.

After looking out the window I could see all the trucks and cannons go by, This was the invasion.

For me this was a new adventure with the neighbors on the opposite side of the street instead of the electrical substation and the long hill to the bomb shelter. We moved into a new apartment built especially for a low-income family with a new material called concrete. I remember my dad being very nervous because the glue wouldn’t stick to the concrete and wouldn’t hold the wallpaper and he had to do it all over and over again.

Talking to my mother, she was worried that we would leave because the neighbor did business with the Germans and now we were a block from the Gestapo headquarters with a machine gun on us and no shelter across the street. On the other hand, there were 12 children on the same street.

I will miss my dog, a German shepherd named Flic that my dad used to pull a milk cart around the neighborhood selling his product from door to door. Winter was here now and with the black ice with it, we had to wear socks over our shoes to avoid slipping. But the school was only four blocks away.

The food was changing, potatoes were now turnips, butter was lard, coffee was chicory, cane sugar was sugarbeats sugar, there was no chocolate or sweets, as a treat we had bread pudding and cough drops and a root that turns our tongue yellow called reglis.

For meat we had all you could get your hands on cats, rats, pigeons, some people had pigs on their balcony so you had to be very careful going under.

In my class all the Jewish boys had to have a yellow serrated star on their jacket. At lunchtime, the school ate chicken with Polish paprika, which made our throats sore, or Dutch maatches, or rotten fish. Anything the German Army didn’t eat.

Everything that the red cross offered included the air of shoes that were not necessarily the same gender, color or size, it was still a pair. Everyone bought or sold on the black market. For my mother it was coffee and white bread. As she had a grocery store five years ago, she was still on the import list and the bread came from Leuven (a city 25 km from Brussels) where her best friend had an underground bakery.

Fear was with you no matter where you went. It was the bombing, the V1, the resistance, the SS raid or the collaborators that gave you up. No matter where you were, fear was on the menu.

In class, every morning we would have a queue call and whoever was not present was presumed dead or deported. It made you live in constant insecurity with no hope for tomorrow. Little did I know this was going to haunt me for the rest of my life. Some of my neighbors were requisitioned to go to work in Germany and two of the boys on my street belonging to the Hitlerian Jung had to enlist in the German army iand go to Russia.

Needless to say, they never came back. Being hungry was an everyday feeling, but sometimes it distorted your sense of worth. It had been a long time since we had seen meat, every day an old German soldier passed by with a small horse and cart who came to buy vegetables for the troops. Day by day that horse was getting more and more appealing, until one day my dad in his usual card game, the subject comes up and everyone decides to get the horse.

This would require serious planning. So the plan was to distract the soldier and take his horse to a safe place to dismember him. They entice the soldier to go for a beer at the local cafe and get his attention away from a horse. It took three liters of beer to put Fritz into a sound sleep and with towels on the horse’s feet, we ruled him out. My dad always bragged about his big cellar, so this time he had to put his money where his mouth was. And they take the horse to the house.

The horse made it through the front door just fine, then took two steps, like a charm, then had to go past the row of stairs, do a 180, and go down the cellar stairway. That he was not willing to do , but between pushing and pushing we managed to take the horse to the first step down to the cellar. What they didn’t anticipate was the 45 degree roof drop. A horse’s head hangs over his feet, he could go further without hurting his head against the ceiling. So, one of the boys decides to get in front under the horse and puts it over his shoulder and climbs down himself. They all agreed and went into action. The first step had the horse, so he went down the second step and some were holding the horse’s head down. On the third step there was more room for someone to hold the horse’s head

They all agreed and went into action. The first step had the horse, so he went down the second step and some were holding the horse’s head down. On the third step there was more room for someone to hold the horse’s head down and it still has its hind legs at ground level. Now the horse bends his legs forward and “the guy” now has the whole horse on his shoulder. In a flash the guy and the horse were in the cellar. The man now has a broken nose and the horse has a broken leg. The wives are taking care of the nose and the men of the broken leg. During this entire operation 6 men and the horse are screaming at the top of their lungs making enough noise to keep the neighborhood wondering what is going on. It is now 9 PM an hour before curfew. In an hour Fritz will be out on the street and the whole neighborhood will be silent. The cellar is 1.5 meters wide and 3 meters long, inside there is a table and a chair.

Now comes the time when everything works out. My dad volunteered to kill the horse because he saw how it’s done at the slaughterhouse. So he took a big hammer, he made a cross on the horse’s head and with all the strength of his body he hit the beast. The horse and my dad fell to the ground. It took 30 minutes to revive my dad. The next morning, 5 travel bags were going home.

To provide some heat for my mother’s stove, I used to run after the coal truck and collect whatever I could take home or spend time at the dump saving whatever burned in our stove. Sometimes the SS would come down with the machine gun to kill people just for fun. After 10 p.m. all light had to be off, they would shoot anything remotely bright. Sometimes we heard a noise in the attic and my dad said that the rats were back, it seemed that I was the only one who knew that the noise came from the three young people who lived in hiding.

The Americans were coming, the underground radio was telling us and my dad was following the Russian advance on a European map and every day hundreds of planes passed by with a crash of thunder over the house. Now the Herman had a new weapon, the V2, this was the first ballistic rocket they were testing on Belgian soil. If you weren’t scared before this works, you don’t hear anything coming, suddenly the whole block disappears into dust. You don’t have time to be scared. D-Day was now history and I could see the Germans starting to pack up abandoning their gear and burning whatever paperwork they could muster. The night before the liberation the last passing truck was hijacked by the resistance and everyone was going to have a bit of the luxury that the Germans took from us and my mother crawled past to bring me a bar of chocolate. She expected my eyes to light up like a Christmas tree and instead I spit it out not remembering what it was supposed to taste like. She was already 8 years old and was proud his big cellar, so this time he had to put is money where is mouth was. And they broth the horse to the house . The horse went thru the front door with no problem then came two steps, like a charm, then he had to go pass the row of stairs make a 180 and go down the stairway from the seller. That he was not willing to do but with everybody pushing and shoving, we came to get the horse to the firs step going down to the cellar. What they did not anticipate was the 45 degrees ceiling going down. A horse’s head hang over his feet, he could get any more forward without hurting his head to the ceiling. So one of the guys decide to put himself in front under the horse and put him on his shoulder and step down himself.

Everybody agreed and they pass to action the firs step had the horse so went down the second step and some was holding the horse head down, the third step there was more room for someone the keep the horses head down and he still has his back feet on floor level. Now the horse bend his legs forward and “the guy” now has the entire horse on his shoulder. I n one swoop the guy and the horse where down to the cellar. The man has now a broken nose and the horse has a broken leg. The wife’s are taking care of the nose and the men of the broken leg.

During all this operation 6 men and the horse are screening to the top of the lungs making enough noise to keep the all neighborhood wander what is going on. It is now 9 PM one hour before the curfew . In one hour Fritz will be on the street and the all neighborhood will be silent.

The cellar is 1.5 meter wide and 3 meter long, inside there is a table and one chair. Now come the time where everything come together My Dad volunteer to kill the horse because he saw how it is done at the slaughterhouse. So he took a big hammer put a cross on the horse head and with every force in his body hit the beast. The horse and my Dad fell on the floor it took 30miutes to revived my Dad.

The next morning 5 travel cases where going home.

To provide some heat for my mother stove I use to run behind the coal truck and scoop what ever possible bring back home or spend time in the land field to save what ever would burn in our stove.

Some time the SS would come down with they machine gun to mow down the people just for kicks.

After 10 PM all light had to be out, they would shoot anything remotely bright. Sometimes we herd some noise in the attic and my Dad would say the rats are at it again, it seam I was the only one knowing the noise came from the three young man living in hiding.

The American where coming, the clandestine radio told us so and my Dad was keeping track of the Russian advance on a European map and every day there was hundred of plane passing by with a roar of thunder over the house.

Now they had a new weapon the V2 this was the first ballistic rocket that they were experimenting on the Belgium soil. If you were not fearful before this will do , you don;t hear anything coming, suddenly the all block disappear in to dust. You don’t have time to be scared.

D day was now history and we could see the German starting to pack up abandoning there equipment and burning as much paper work they could muster.

The night before the liberation the last truck passing by was hijacked by the resistance and every body was to get little bit of the luxury the German did take from us and my mother scratch her way in ,to bring me back a bar of chocolate.

She expected my eyes to light up like a Christmas tree and instead I spit it out, with no memory of what it was suppose to taste like.

I was now 8 years old and proud to belong to the underground Boy-scout of England and start to go on Catholicism make my first communion, this is the beginning of my indoctrination. After all ,I need an other reason to be afraid , the wrath of God.

I am passing over a lot of terrible memories from the war because of the gruesome subject that I don’t care to revisited.

2022 Ukraine.

It was almost 80 years ago and I remember it like it was yesterday. The veil of fear never leaves you, the messenger of no tomorrow is a sting that will never dissipate.

Looking back, I have been blessed. I didn’t think it would last this long and I feel some gratitude for whoever was taking care of me. Now I have German friends.

They will never forget, even if they can be friends again later, because the memories will endures.