Joe VanRooyen’s Journal – part 2The war years
The Germans invaded our country that early morning [May 10, 1940] and in 5 days it was all over; we just were no match for that army. There was a lot of fighting, Rotterdam was bombed and ten thousands of people killed in that city. The refinery outside Amsterdam was burning after bombing, and the Nazis marched on into the east side of Holland.
The Dutch are very patriotic and proud of our independence and loyalty to the Queen. Queen Wilhelmina fled to England; the Germans were trying to capture her and her family. So she was safe and set up a new government from England.
May 15 we were occupied by the hated Nazi troops. Soon we had our newspapers and radio news censored; we lost our freedom. They showed that they were the rulers. Movies were only allowed to show “their” movies; we had a curfew to be off the streets at 8 o’clock p.m. and in my school we were forced to sign a loyalty promise to the Nazis and join their party what almost all of us refused, and our school was closed.
I went back home and became an apprentice in an orthopedic shoe shop, and things were very difficult. Leather and rubber were scare; we found a way to make our own glue by buying benzyl on the black market and shred crepe rubber into that what would dissolve and become glue.
Coffee and tea was not available anymore, and we roasted chicory roots and bummed sugar and mixed that to make a surrogate coffee. We had to turn in our radios; only piped in broadcasts were allowed. I took our little radio and build that in underneath my work stool so it would not be visible, and I could listen to the 7 o’clock BBC news from England and also got “Radio Vry Nederland” (radio free Netherlands). We had to be very careful because punishment for these things were very severe.
Cars and motorcycles had to be turned in, also anything made out of Copper and Brass. Most of us would bury all that in the yard wrapped in tar paper till the end of the War.
Food, clothing was rationed and it was tight; no electricity at night, natural gas limited to a few hours a day, coal for heating very limited and above all, no freedom of speech. We had to be careful for our own people; some turned to the enemy, and you didn’t know who to trust. Friends and brothers betrayed each other; children would turn in their parents in some cases.
Soon we had a loosely knit group together and formed or joined a resistance movement. We only knew each other by nicknames; my name was Sam. We started to help Jewish people to find a hiding place and supply them with food. Sometimes I became involved to get some of them out to Vlissingen (Zeeland) where a boat was waiting to get them to England. It was frustrating because the Jewish people I approached, most of them, didn’t believe that there were concentration camps; they didn’t wasn’t their homes and belonging behind. One friend, the Greenewalds, were not to be convinced no matter how hard I tried. They had a beautiful 17 year old daughter and I wanted them to flee. They refused, and their name is now in the Holocaust Museum in Washington.
My parents didn’t know any of this; it was too dangerous to get them involved. They had 5 little ones at home and plenty of worries.
One day in 1942 we found an American pilot whose plane was shot down in the dunes, took him to safety and I had the good luck to return him to England. We got false papers, doctor documents to state that the man was a deaf and dumb mute and needed special medical assistance in Belgium; from there another doctor’s statement to send him to France etc, and after we crossed the Pyrenees (mountains), what was the border between Spain and France, he was free to go back to England. Spain was a neutral country. The trip on bike took about 3 weeks. It was a very dangerous undertaking, but I was very lucky and got my task done. After that I made a few more trips to return people back; sometimes we had to hurt them so they couldn’t talk, some days to carry them in a truck that went our way; but in spite of being stopped many times to inspect our papers, we were always safe.
In between time we would help Jewish people to hide because more en (and) more they were rounded up during the night and sent to Germany. They were required to wear a yellow Star of David at all time sewed on their clothing with the word, “Jood” (Jew). They were not allowed to go into restaurants, sports events; and many stores would have a sign, Jews prohibited. We had contact with many different resistance groups, all small by design because we had to be very careful and alert for traitors, our own people!
When something went wrong, many people would suffer. I remember that a few German SS soldiers, the worst of the Nazis together with the Gestapo, got killed by our resistance; and the next day the SS troops went into a small village, Petten, rounded up all males including babies and toddlers, killed many of them and shipped the rest to the camps in Germany. Nobody ever came back.
When questioned sometimes I always had friends to back me up that I stayed with them for a week or a few days. Many times there were narrow escapes, and in 1943 I got caught.
They gave me a chance to go home, and the next week I had to report in Haarlem for transport to Germany. This was not too bad because I knew that someone would meet me in the train station to get me off to another part of Holland or Belgium. That never happened; I got put on a train and transported to Amersfoort, a camp where they decided who should go where. The same afternoon I was with a hundred others stuffed in cattle wagons, doors locked, and for 3 days we steamed along to somewhere.
[Editor’s note: Amersfoort is located south and east of Amsterdam. In relation to other concentration camps Kamp Amersfoort was a small and provisional camp used between 1941 - 1945. It was supervised by the German police.]
When I saw the doors open and we had to get out, we were surrounded by guards with automatic guns and watchdogs, was loaded into an army type truck and transported to Charlottenburg in Berlin. To my surprise it was a bunch of neat clean barracks; we had meals that were not too bad and settle down in bunks with a clean blanket. Very soon I was to find out that this was the time for questions. What do you know, names, dates, places, and they suspected from my files that I knew what they wanted to know.
I could not tell anything because my chance to survive would be gone. I’d become useless to them and besides, I hated them so much I would never help them. The atmosphere soon changed, and I was transported to another camp outside Berlin. Bergen was the place and there was a big difference. Dirty barracks, brutal guards, very little to eat and daily executions.
I was put to work at Bamag-Mequin, a factory where steel was made and shaped. My interrogation resumed again and I was jailed in Alexanderplatz in a deep underground room. Daylight was a sort of vent pipe 35-40 feet high; if there was light it was day.
After 3 weeks in that bare cell and that is what it was, nothing but dirt floor, I was brought back to the Camp. There they wound my body in rawhide leather straps soaked in water and put me on the floor. Slowly the leather dried and my fingernails were driven into my hands. Circulation was nearly cut off, and the pain was hard to bare. Just the thought of how much I hated them kept me sane.
This process was repeated 4 more times. In between they questioned, names, places, where and if I know hidden places, etc. Suddenly it was over and back to my barracks again.
My work was now in a big building where railroad rails were made. They were welded and rows of rolls moved out of the building by cranes.
The game was to get and pierce the prisoners that were working because the rails moved very fast on rollers, and we could never tell from where it was coming and many did get hit and the big steel rail would go through the body of the victim.
Another game was with our caps, we had to wear these with our number on it. Caught without a cap was a capital offense and thus we kept them on. Now there was in many areas a yellow line, a sort of no man’s land. Crossing the line was strictly prohibitit (Dutch for prohibited).
The guard would take our caps and threw them over into the territory behind the lines. Very soon, (I have had this one time) we were chased by 10-12 guards with bayonets; and if you were lucky you would cross the line to get the cap and another 6-7 would start shooting from the walls or the tower. I made it back somehow, and the ‘game’ was over. Many, many never made it in time.
A month or so later the questioning started again; this time I was strapped in a chair. A hole was drilled in my tooth and a small chain with a winch fastened on that. Every question got a little tap on the winch and after several hours the tooth came out and another one was started.
After 3 days (or was it 4 or 5, I don’t remember) they started to drill a hole into the roof of my mouth to hook the chain on. Then I passed out knowing that this was the end. Somehow they touched and damaged my mouth a little but didn’t do much damage.
How and what happened then I don’t know, but I woke up in my barrack where my roommates took care of me and had washed my face and had some warm water to drink.
In 1944 the Allies “visited” every night and bombed the city and country with a 1,000 planes daily. The fires destroyed everything, and we too lost our buildings. Fear? No, we enjoyed this, to see them scared and worried.
One day we got packed into the wagons, and my unit got bombed and I wandered around. I don’t know if they believed me; but there was no way or time to find out so I was put to work on a chain gang fixing railroads. I am glad today that I never have to travel on these.
Hunger was our constant companion; we didn’t get more than a bowl of cabbage soup a day. Sometimes I could sneak in a line for German population where they distributed good food after a bombing raid.
A new job came my way; I had to dismantle the unexploded bombs that were 4-5 feet deep into the ground! A fat German officer that became impatient showed me how to do it. He got into the hole’ I got out and was suppose to watch and listen to his instructions. Instead I ran away, too risky; and within minutes he went to hell when his bomb exploded.
I was locked up for sabotage and my death sentence announced.
Tuesday and Thursday mornings were the executions; and one fateful Thursday it was our turn, about 60 of us. This was done by hanging a dozen at the time; and while we were lined up and watched, suddenly about 6 Spitfires swooped down and shot, bombed, and terrorized the area. Again I ran away in the confusion and the fires breaking out the next day, a different crew picked me up and another camp started. They didn’t know what happened and I stuck to my story that I became separated, guards killed and don’t know where I was or came from.
Put to work this time in a factory that made parts for sea mines. I got beaten a lot but not as brutal as some past experiences. How we kept alive is hard to explain. We would catch rats, dogs, sometimes a cat, would find discarded potato peelings or any garbage.
Things seemed hopeless, and we never received any news from the outside anymore. Christmas Eve, 1944 we came out of the factory; and instead of getting our daily bowl of soup we had to stand out in the yard without our clothes on (had rags). It was cold and snowing and hundreds dropped during the next 5 hours, old men and women, little children, even 8-9 months old babies.
When we went inside, but didn’t get any food. One of my friends, a small Jewish man from Poland, called me over and gave me 3 Hosts, got them somehow from a Catholic Priest for communion and I found about 2 dozen prisoners to divide these; so we could have again some hope.
The next afternoon we got bombed (the city) and we were sent out to help put out fires, etc. About 5 o’clock while going through debris the Allies came back and started bombing again. All hell broke loose, and the Germans were so scared and fled into their bomb shelters. I spotted a big house with tables full of food ready for Christmas dinner and in no time did we get a hold of meats, breads, cans of Applesauce, all we could eat and carry. It was a meal I haven’t had for years.
In February, 1945 we noticed more and more allied planes. Nervous German troops retreating and train after train with wounded soldiers from the fronts in France or Russia but still, we had no idea what was going on. Several weeks later the killings in the camp increased, but security was almost nothing anymore. Guards were gone and we found hiding places. Many guards were getting caught and killed, many SS troops were attacked; it was chaos.
March 22, me and 3 others got picked up and again I was sure that this was the end of the line. The SS troops were ugly by now. We got locked up in a bunker. They locked the doors and somehow start flooding it. The water level came up to plus or minus 5 feet, shoulder high and the hours passed; the days passed. One of the men gave up and went down; another went berserk and also drowned.
Later we found out that we’ve been in this for almost 3 days when suddenly the doors opened. I remember seeing soldiers standing outside and yelling something, guns pointed at the door; but I also knew that this were not Germans. We crawled out of this and with the two of us lay down outside, surrounded what was men from Gen. Patton’s 3rd Army.
Finally we were free, liberated; and I can’t describe the feeling I experienced these moments looking at a bunch of GIs. The rags we had on were taken off. One of the GIs gave me a piece of soap, and I washed until the soap was gone.
I was treated with DDT to kill the bugs we all had, was given some kind of lotion or skin oil because my body was covered with sores from bug bites, disease, scurvy; and they didn’t have clothing so I got an army blanket to wrap myself in; it was clean!
One of the men asked if I was hungry, I was 72 pounds and he came with a skillet, put in a ½ pack of butter, pork and beans and potatoes. That was gone in no time; I ate the whole skillet as fast as I could get it in. Very shortly after that I became sick, very sick and my insides turned inside out. The food didn’t do much good, and I was put in a huge tent field hospital.
For the next several I was fed biscuits, little oatmeal, and some very weak coffee. One incident I remember is the time I asked one of the Red Cross workers what date it was and he told me, March something (I forget what day). I wanted to know what year, 1945! It couldn’t be. I felt that I have been prisoner for many years and thought it was 1955 or ’59. No, it has been only 2 years and it was 1945.
At that time, still in the field hospital, we got a visitor. Gen. Patton walked through the rows of people; we were on the ground and (he) stopped to say a word, to nod.
He was a tall man and very impressive; and while I was one of the last ones on the end he stopped briefly, looked and asked, “You OK?” “Yes and thank you,” that much English I knew. As he turned to go outside he shook his head a little; and I can still hear him say, “God damn Germans!” It was many years later that I really understood what he said. In between time I started to walk again, to eat a little more and gaining weight.
The news was good; the Allied troops were reaching Berlin. Holland was still not liberated, and I couldn’t go home yet. With some friends we found a truck like vehicle and made plans to take off to France, and so we did with 8 of us. We crossed the Rhine River over a pontoon bridge and came to the Belgium border where we got stopped by the officials and very quickly were directed to an area to be transported to somewhere later on.
Walking around and visiting with others, mostly French and Belgium former prisoners, I spotted a group of crying and sad looking people (girls). They came out of the camps also, and their homeland was Lithuania and Estonia. Small countries now occupied by Russia.
They didn’t get permission to get into Belgium; some political agreement between the super powers and had to be transported to their country. They didn’t want to because of Russia was their enemy also. I talked with the Belgium officials but they were helpless. One of them mentioned that the only way they could come to the free world is if they were married to someone from Western Europe.
One of my friends came with me; and after some talk, we took one of the girls with us. We found a Justice of the Peace in a nearby village and talked him into marrying me and the girl (we had a gun that made him cooperate quicker). I signed the marriage certificate; so did she and it was properly witnessed and (she) went back to the border and without any problems she got her proper papers and stamps. I did this with the 22 or 23 others and they were permitted in. Never saw any of them again.
I was transported to Andenne (Belgium) where a family took me in for 3 days. From there I went to Namur (Belgium) and stayed there for 3 weeks. We got lots to eat and even got some money; it was heaven after the years in Germany.
In April, 1945 I got on a train heading home with hundreds of others. When we reached Amsterdam, people were standing along the train tracks, waving flags like they did the whole route we traveled. The boats in the harbor blew their whistles, bells were ringing; it was home!
My parents got the news that a batch of prisoners were under way and when I arrived by bus and walked to the backdoor they finally believed that I was still alive. It was a joyful reunion, and we had a lot to talk about.
I didn’t realize how I had changed and how bitter and hateful I have become. It became a long struggle to try to fit in somewhere. This is one area I don’t want to elaborate on too much except that for many years it was there and I struggled with this. I tried a lot of things and couldn’t really settle down.
Trudy and Joe’s Wedding Album – Hear Joe’s abbreviated version of his courtship of Trudy here too (Turn on your speakers.)
Download a copy of Joe’s Journal to your desktop. [PDF 545 kb]
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