Hans de Jong

It was in May 2000, 50 years after many parts of Europe were free again, after having been occupied by the Germans for 5 years.
Everybody in my age group will remember those days vividly and no doubt all of them have their own story to tell.
I was born in the Netherlands but have lived in New Zealand most of my life. Last year I received an Email from 2 Dutch students who were working on an assignment about the German occupation in The Netherlands and requested if I would contribute some of my experiences.

So here is my story

May 1940
In 1945 we were liberated by Canadian troops, while I was in hiding in the Leeuwarden, capital of Friesland in the Netherlands.
To understand the total incredible joy of that early Tuesday morning , I will relate a little of my schoolboy days, which I have never much talked about and I am sure that my children, grandchildren, friends and others will be astonished to learn the hardship we had to endure during the German occupation starting in May 1940. I was 12 years old.

The noise of airplanes woke me that morning around 5.30 am and I wrapped a blanket round me and stood on the balcony of the 4th floor of the apartment in Rotterdam Schepenstraat we lived in, Father Mother and 6 children. In the distance on my right I observed dozens, maybe hundred's of parachutes descending from the biggest planes I had ever seen, German Henkel’s, like giant buses with wings. Later I learned that they had occupied the airport. Most of the Dutch planes that were parked there had already had their tires slashed by members of the NSB, the hated minority group of Dutchmen who then and throughout the war collaborated with the Germans or as we called them the Moffen. They were sure like the scum of the earth and they did incredible damage to our underground forces in later years by infiltrating their ranks.

Our Air force, albeit it a small one, could play no defence role leaving the Dutch Army and especially the Dutch Marines to put up a tremendous fight in particular near the Maasbrug. This was not expected by the Muffin as apparently they had in mind to get to the coast line the same day and get on whatever ship or boat that was available in order to sail to England, as they termed the UK then.  So in order to force a capitulation they bombed the centre of Rotterdam for a period of 4 hours I think, the 2nd city in world history to be bombed from the air, the first one was Warsaw in Poland some months earlier.

All of us were huddled in the basements of the apartments and feeling and hearing the constant shocks and tremors of bombs exploding nearby , as the crow flies maybe 2 or 3 kilometres away. Needless to say we were all extremely fearful, fortunately only one large bomb fell nearby which did not explode, we found out later.

The Dutch did capitulate thereafter, having no other alternative. As the darkness came we could see the sky lit by an enormous glow of flames which literally jumped from one block to another, caused by a vacuum related phenomenon due to the intense heat. The next morning at sunrise the sun looked large and blood red and many people especially Jews, thought that was a sign meaning the end of the world and some committed suicide right then.

I still see vividly in my mind a Jewish boy 18 years old who lived in the bottom apartment with his parents. They had fled from Germany in 1938 and felt safe here. Herman was almost hysterical and the fear was clearly visible on his face. He was standing in the street ready to run, but did not know where to. He pleaded with his parents to flee to London, not realizing that the airport was in German hands. He and his parents survived the war after spending some terrible years in a concentration camp. I met Herman 58 years later in Melbourne and he related some of his experiences in the various concentration camps they somehow managed to survive not just by chance, but often by outwitting their guards.

The city burned for 5 days and the entire centre was left in rubble, with historical buildings destroyed that had been there for centuries. Lots of citizens were killed or maimed as well.

Hours later the German Wehrmacht with all their might and strength paraded through the streets singing 'unt wir fahren gegen Engeland”. Singing was done by command and it always sounded impressive. And at that time they were the mightiest Army in the world and also very well disciplined. I can recall 2 instances of that --as a troop of soldiers marched through the streets singing, an almost daily occurrence, and a commanding officer ordered a halt, and the heels clattered in the street as if it was one loud click. He then summoned one of the soldiers to come forward, shouted something to him and then he slapped his face 4 times with the palm of his hand and ordered him back and they continued to march.

Another incident took place at a jewellery shop on the Schiekade. A Mof walked in and demanded to see the best watches available. He chose one and promptly walked out of the shop without paying a cent. In desperation the shop owner phoned the police who in turn phoned the German command post. The following day German police called at his shop to verify the story and he was taken to their Head Quarters. There was a line-up of 10 German soldiers waiting for him, could he please point to the man who took the watch. He recognized the fellow immediately but instead he said that the soldier was not in the group. The following day, the guy who committed the offense called in his shop again and paid 4 times the amount, thanking him and adding had you pointed the finger at me, I would be a dead man by now.

On the other side of the coin was the Waffen SS and the SD, another segment of Hitler's troops. They were all the lowest of the lowest sadistic criminals that ever walked the face to the earth. A common SS soldier could overrule the commands of a German Wehrmacht officer and they also feared the SS greatly.
Allow me to regress a little and go back to the bombardment. I was not allowed to go into the city to look at all the damage, father had told me, which I found unfair. So one morning, with a friend Hans Kooren we decided to look around anyway. We could hardly believe our eyes, hardly a building was standing. Smoking ruins and lots of deep bomb craters and here and there an unexploded bomb.

One deep crater fascinated us as we could clearly see a tunnel access at the bottom. There was a sign telling to stay out but that did not deter us to descend and actually walk some distance in this 6 foot high tunnel. We soon surmised that this was a mediaeval tunnel for the purpose of getting in and out of the city when it was surrounded by a large wall in the middle ages, as was common in those days. We found hundreds of small glass bottles and many round cannon balls. We stuffed our pockets with whatever we could find and between us, using a jacket we decided to take one fairly large round cannon ball home, probably made of lead. We were totally excited with our discovery and could not wait to get home and tell everybody. But as we walked out back into the crater, our joy was short lived.
We stared into a barrel of a rifle and looking further it was held by an NSB’er, in black uniform. He wanted to know where we came from and when we told him we were told that we were lying and asked a number of stupid questions. But in the end he said we could go home but regretfully we had to empty our pockets, assuming he would take them home. I have never found out what was done with that tunnel and its contents. it must have been a real treasure for an archaeologist.

Anybody knows??
The first 2 years of the occupation was nothing compared with the remaining 3 years, when the Moffen started to make life for Jewish people very hard, by removing all 'privileges' such as having a telephone and they were not allowed to use public transport not even public facilities, which all had signs saying 'prohibited for dogs and Jews 'it was during this period that the resistance or 'de ondergrondse' began to emerge’. The Jews were compelled to wear a yellow Star, with J in the centre. In fact it was the star of David, a religious symbol. Not only an insult but degrading as well. Any one caught without the Star would be shot on the spot .This 'law' was introduced at the same time in all occupied countries.


I learned after the war that in Denmark under the leadership and example of their King this inhumane order was not followed up and on the very day all Jew donned the Star, so did the King and most of the citizens. The King paraded in front of his palace on his horse, the Star clearly visible and the Germans did not dare to arrest him.

Our Royal family had fled to the UK and Canada, so they were of little help to us. Unlike the forefather of the House of Orange who always defended his people against the Spanish forces back in history , the so called 80 year war and the time of the Spanish Inquisition. This time the Dutch were left to themselves.

Daily the situation in Rotterdam became worse. One day on my way to school on a very cold morning there were 12 dead bodies lying on their backs, all males between 12 and 60 or so years? They had just been grabbed and shot in the head on the way to work or school and had to lay there for 48 hours to remind us that we should not resist das Reich (Germany) . Nobody dared to stop or even linger near the bodies, in case you would be the next one.

What happened was this. The night before a small group of resistance members were on a main road waiting for a truck which was carrying food ration cards and the plan was to stop the truck , raid and disappear with the cards .It was all precisely planned. At the correct time they could see the dimmed headlight of a vehicle and when close enough they opened fire realizing too late that it was not the truck but a car belonging to a German general and his body guard. The General was wounded and he ordered that 200 Dutchman should be shot at random to teach us a lesson. Could have been me had I been there 1/2 an hour earlier!

Another terror weapon of the Moffen was the constant 'razias' or roundups. All men between 16 and 60 were compelled to go to Germany and many plainly refused and took the risk of being caught rather then submitting to slave labour.
They had various methods, at times they would use the NSB to cordon off a street and stop anybody. I had just turned 16 and on my way to school on my bicycle (without tires, driving on the rims only) I saw the street as blocked by NSB men in black and I did not see any weapons. As I approached one of then signalled me to stop. Instead I pedalled like fury and drove right past him and never dared to look round till a few minutes later and I was not followed so went to school that day feeling very happy to be free .

On another occasion one morning I opened the front door and saw dozens of armed Wehrmacht troops and SS men. This was more serious. So I dashed back inside, told my parents who promptly told me to go back to bed.
By luck a nurse in uniform had just arrived to bring some news about my brother Bram, who was on the wanted list. He was safe and well.
Soon the door bell rang and a German soldier demanded to search the house. There were a total of 8 rooms and he found me, with the nurse sitting on my bed comforting me as a very ill patient. The soldier, who was not German but an Austrian said to father ‘OK I will leave him here but remember that the SS is outside and they do double check at times. If they find him here, not only will he and you be shot but me as well’.

Yet a few doors further down, a man who had been in bed for almost one year with TB ( the only then cure known was to lie flat on your back for a long period of time ) he was forced into the street while he could hardly walk any more. He died soon thereafter.

In another home, a man was in shorts and played with a toy train on the floor when they busted in. He looked at the German with his tongue hanging out and said 'Hello does you like my train?' and the soldier decided that they did not need a half wit.

Another trick was to put a sign on the door with the word 'measles in this house' or some other contagious disease often did the trick to keep them out.


One night we were all in bed , hungry as always and awaiting the first air raid sirens, so we had to get up and sit at the bottom of the staircase to wait for the 'all clear signal'. This happened almost every night as Allied planes flew over to bomb hell out of Germany. Unfortunately, the German defence started in Holland and dozens of very powerful search lights were beaming skywards and pity the plane that was caught in those beams. I remember distinctly how one large plane was caught and next I see a very small plane (a fighter) descending inside the light beam and shooting his guns , which we could rather hear than see, but the next we knew the light went off and we all cheered.

On another occasion lots of search lights were beaming together in the direction of a full moon. The machine guns were working overtime and my younger brother Bob shouted 'look now they are going to shoot down the moon'.

And there was the time a Lancaster plane was on fire and spiralled to the ground . It crashed in a small canal, close to a prison. In the early morning I got on my bike to have a look. By that time the Germans were retrieving the bodies and I could see one body without a head. The Germans decided to give these airmen a formal funeral, complete with an English flag over the coffins.
What they did not like was the procession of people that followed that was almost a mile long, so thereafter they buried the dead at night time only, when there was a curfew on.

Anyway I am drifting from my subject. We were all in bed and heard breaking of glass and 6 SS thugs made their way up 2 flights stairs. By the time we met at the top one of them pointed his machine gun at us and told us to put our hands up. Wimp, my brother shouted at one of them not to point that crazy thing at us, they took no notice.
They were looking for Bram. Where is he? When was he here last?
We were rounded up in the hall, shivering with cold and fear. They wanted to be shown his bedroom and one of them put his hand inside the bed to see if it was warm , in the event he had just eluded them What we did not know at the time that was there was already a soldier on the roof and two more on either side of the street and more in the street. About 12 thugs waiting for Bram. Thank God he was not home it would have been his end.

They searched his room and found nothing. One soldier was curious about the ceiling of a built- in wardrobe, he tapped and looked at any way of entrance and then gave up. Just as well as in the attic were a number of weapons one of them was a Bazooka and Erna my sister had a revolver in her room as well as sensitive documents.
But of us younger kids it had a happy ending, when we surveyed the mess the Germans left behind we also saw on the floor a number of wrapped loaves of toasted bread , which will keep indefinitely. Father had bought them on the black market as an emergency food. So we all helped ourselves quickly and were not hungry that morning.

Well as you will appreciate when I am writing this one episode after the other comes back in my mind and I could ramble on for a long time, but will save you the ordeal.
Here is one episode we all enjoyed. No one was allowed to have a radio, so we could not listen to the BBC. The penalty to disobey was very harsh. The head of the house would be shot dead and the apartment or house would be set on fire. This did happened not far from us , at least an apartment was set on fire after the Germans had a tip off that there was a radio to be found and they were now waiting for the owner to come so he could be dealt with. Late that afternoon he arrived, but he was a NSB member complete with his black uniform. We all gloated!

There is one thing I would like you lucky students of today (2000) to know, about my homework. During the latter part I attended secondary school or College. Regardless of being hungry all day, cold as well as heating hardly existed we still had to study each night, if lucky by candle light, but most often a floating wick in some sort of oil.
All subjects were compulsory namely 4 languages (Dutch, French (2 classes Verbs and Conversation) German and English (irregular verbs and plurals had to be learned by heart). Geography local and overseas history, domestic and the rest of the world. Arithmetic, algebra and physics, book-keeping and for good measure, shorthand writing.
Now imagine all that, being hungry and cold and never sure if we would come back home or be alive the next day.

Day by day the situation became worse. Jewish people literally herded away on open trucks or cattle trailers, no matter what age. The bottom apartment where Herman and his parents used to live was rented to some other Jewish people and I had to witness when they also were arrested and loaded on an open truck. I still see the beautiful black haired teenager waiving good bye at me, looking me straight in the eye. God only knows what the bastards did to her (and HE allowed it to happen as well).

1944 was abnormally cold, night temperatures of minus 20 at times. No heating -we had news paper in our shoes and around our bodies-. At times we would go into the country with a hand cart or a push bike and try to barter food for with linen, such as sheets and towels as farmers did not want money.

At one time I had secured a load of Brussels's sprouts, which I had to gather myself from frozen plants. I took the leaves as well for good measure. By the time I came home I had already eaten many of the Brussels sprouts but my parents were happy with the leaves.

At another time I went with a friend who lived nearby (Hans Kooren) and we managed to obtain two bags of potatoes, a treasure! At night we were grateful to be allowed to sleep in the farmers’ stable loft where he kept his straw feed. He gave us a canvas horse cover to keep warm. Halfway in the night the cover slipped down onto the floor 2 meters below. When we tried to recover it we were greeted by 2 big barking Alsatian Dogs. The rest of the night was too cold to sleep.
The following morning the farmer apologized and explained that so many city people abused his hospitality and stole whatever they could lay their hands on. He sent us on the way with a nice packet of ham sandwiches, which we both kept for our parents.

On the way home in the middle of the Maasbrug one of our bicycles broke into 2 pieces, so we walked the remaining 10 kilometres with 2 bags on one bike.

Today I still correspond with Hans Kooren, albeit very rarely (he does not use Email and I am getting so lazy) I will snail mail him a copy of this.

We always heard rumours that the liberation was so close. In fact it was true! The Southern part of Holland below the Maas was liberated, so were Belgium and France. But we were cold and hungry.
Each morning frozen bodies lying in streets and parks were collected by hand carts and hastily buried.
Animals suffered as much as we did and once I saw a cart horse collapse, it had slipped on the icy street and broke a front leg. It was shot by someone to help it out of its misery. It was loaded on a low wheeled vehicle and taken to a nearby slaughter house and soon a line of people were waiting to buy the horse meat.

As a family it was decided that both Wim and myself should get away from Rotterdam as soon Wim would be forced to be a slave labourer as well. Erna was working for a construction firm called Nederveen. They actually collaborated with the Germans, but in fact they ripped them off totally. They seemed to be totally fearless, all brothers looked like giants. They volunteered to transport 50 children up North to Friesland, which still had spare food available. The truck was fuelled by a coal generator (looked like a steam engine) and it had a large 20 meter trailer. All the children were wrapped in blankets and newspapers and Wim was among that lot.
I and a boy my age had to hide among the luggage at the front of the trailer. The temperature was well below to zero and the speed may be 15 miles per hour. The trip would take 24 hours non stop. Halfway was Zwolle there was a really nasty and strict control point set up by the Germans. We were stopped and I remember that Erna, who was with us for part of the way almost sat on top of me at that time. One Mof felt among the luggage with his hands, felt a warm head and pulls my mates cap off. He then shouts "Der Aus Der Aus" Get out get out. That is the end of us we both thought and were terrified. But now one of the Nederveens' comes into action. I could only hear it, of course. With a very very loud voice he barks and swears at the German in no uncertain language GVD leave them alone!! Don't touch them!!

I was told later he gave the German a packet of tobacco and let him drink some of his precious gin flask. So our lives were spared as it was common that any trespassers were executed right then and there. And soon we were away again up North.
Once in Leeuwarden, Nederveen told us, you are now by yourself.

We did have an address of a protestant Minister, but had no idea how to find him. So we knocked on a door and we were told how to get there, not too far away. We presented a letter of introduction and he was very nervous. Did we not know that it was curfew time after 6 pm? We did not.

To cut a long story short Wim was delegated to a farm in Lekkum and I was given shelter with a grocery man called Mosselman. He was a brave man as if he was caught he would be surely shot. He did have a special warning system, a small pushbutton under the counter. If a suspicious person would come into the shop, he would ring 3 times.
The dreaded day came, partly my fault. I had gone close to a window at the back of the house and came eye to eye with a woman; she looked very fanatically and hatefully at me. She must have told the Germans.
Mr Mosselman had a special hiding place for me, on top of a built in wardrobe. It was accessible through a small trap door from a second story bedroom, which had a small trap door above the wardrobe. Then lino would be rolled over it and a bed was then put in place. We had rehearsed it a few times. I was in there in no time, crouched up like a ball. They virtually walked over me! Luckily they were not using dogs.

Sometime later I had another BIG scare. Occasionally I would go for a walk outside at night, being cooped up inside is no fun I tell you. As I walked I sensed someone behind me and sure enough a man in black was following me.
Leeuwarden at that time housed the headquarters of the Belgium SS and believe it or not they were worse then the German SS .In fact they had resurrected from a museum some torture apparatus which was used during the Spanish Inquisition . Their headquarters were in an insurance company building, I think it was called Buranium House or some thing like that. The horror stories were blood chilling. And now I visualized I was going to be responsible for having my host tortured as he obviously was following me to find out were I lived .
So I did the only thing I could think of I ran and ran and ran from one street into the other, round at least 2 blocks and then I saw a recess, which led into another recess, just big enough to hide me I hoped. I heard him running by, but did not dare to breathe. I lost count of time, after maybe half an hour I dared to move and look. Did not see anything o slowly walking back, hiding whenever I saw even a moving shadow and eventually found the back door of the house and sneaked into bed. I never dared to tell Mr Mosselman what happened as I feared to be told off as I was not allowed outside.


But guess what? Some weeks later I got the urge again to go for a walk, but waited till day break. This time I was real careful and moved slowly from one corner to the other, ready to dive into a recess (portiek).
The Germans had built a concrete wall all around the city about 2.5 meters high which were manned with soldiers and machine guns. As I came closer I saw no Germans, could not believe my eyes. So I got really brave and walked through the open gate.
Lo and behold I saw all these strange looking vehicles, jeeps and weapon carriers and what's more so many smiling, relaxed men in strange looking uniforms, open necked shirts and cooking food which created the most delicious aromas I ever smelt. This I had to tell Mr Mosselman and all the others. So I ran back into the city and told them what I saw. They looked at me, not even smiling and said ' really? I don't believe you, just another rumour. I said come with me and I will show you. No way is that far too dangerous. I said there is not a Mof in sight! No they would not believe me.
So I went back just to get some proof. I got a few signatures and addresses and also shoulder emblem with the words "Cameron Highlanders of Ottawa" which I still have today.
One soldier gave me a slice of bread, the purest white bread I had ever seen I think, or so it seemed and it tasted like the finest cake I ever ate.

By the time I came home again, with proof I was believed and later that afternoon the Canadians made their official entrance into the city with their jeeps and other strange looking vehicles. People were allowed to get on their vehicles and it was great to see the Frisian gals kissing and hugging their liberators. Many people were crying with joy and in the evening there were street dances, it was almost unbelievable to be free again and be able to walk the streets without any fear whatsoever. For days on end the dancing went on in the streets and no doubt in many homes.

The Canadians were their heroes. In spite of that I was really lonely, knowing just a few people and wondering how my folks were back home.
German soldiers were walking towards the German border in rags , pushing prams with their belongings , a total contrast to 5 years before when they marched in with total arrogance . On reflection, their departure was not hindered by the Frisians. But woe to the NSB or other collaborator who were caught, that is a different story.
Like the girls that 'dated' Germans? They were taken to the market and openly humiliated by shaving their heads bald.
Very soon the Canadians took over and all traitors that were caught were immediately protected by them, obviously to avoid a blood bath until the Dutch police were back in action again.

Meanwhile 2 provinces both North and South Holland were still occupied and living in hell. Food was almost not available like a half loaf of bad quality bread per person per week, was not even available in the shops.
I am not sure which part of the Allied Forces eventually kicked the Moffen out. But I do know that Allied planes parachuted thousands of wooden cases with food supplies all over the most needy parts and cities.
The story goes of an Amsterdam family sitting round the dining room table to share a meagre meal. and prayed to God for more food. At that very instant one the food cases crashed through the roof and almost demolished their table, and thus their prayer was overheard. Believe it or not.
Many people owed their lives to those food parcels.

My hardship was really very little in comparison with many others of my age group and those who spent time in evil concentration camps; they would read my story as if I had been in heaven.

May 2000.

Hans (Johannes - Willem) de Jong

Born: Amsterdam, The Netherlands 26-09-1927.

Passed away: Auckland, New Zealand 18-04-2016.