Eva's Story (5 page)

Being in hiding was an immense strain on Pappy. Always a keen, active businessman with his work taking up a good deal of his time, he too had to find other ways to channel his energies. At first he started to paint in oils — landscapes and pictures of places he knew. Each time Mutti visited him she had to sit for her portrait. Then, more surprisingly, he began to write poetry which revealed a creative and sensitive nature we had not appreciated before. He would smile rather shyly and read out his compositions to us. We were, after all, his only audience but Mutti was astonished at this other side of his personality. It explained the origins of many of Heinz's gifts.

Heinz had so many talents. He was an artist who painted with a flair for colour. One of his paintings was of a little child playing on the floor with a train: another of an empty attic room with rays of light streaming on to a box of toys in the corner. But the most powerful picture was one of himself in despair. He sits at a table in the foreground with his head on his arms while in the background lies a dying figure.

He was also a gifted musician able to compose serious music. He wrote poetry that was full of meaning. Added to this he was an adept scholar. During the time of his hiding Heinz studied Italian without help and on one of our visits he asked for Italian novels to read. He was thirsty for knowledge and determined not to waste any time of his ‘captivity' in idleness.

23 October 1942 El Alamein, Rommel defeated in North Africa

Every evening at nine Pappy would tune into the BBC news which went out in Dutch. I remember the thrill of excitement hearing the Victory theme from Beethoven's Fifth before the broadcasts. We heard the news of Rommel's defeat on one of our first visits to Pappy and hugged each other in elation. The war would soon be over.

Our parents taught us bridge and often the four of us passed our evenings playing together. The calls confused me but I became quite good at trumping. Pappy always made me feel so proud when I played with him, but Heinz and I were the best partners of all, especially when we beat Mutti and Pappy! We played quietly, whispering our calls because we were always aware that we might be heard. Everything had to be done in secret and as silently as possible. By this time Heinz had even been obliged to disguise his Jewish looks by bleaching his hair with peroxide — so that it was now a gingery blond colour.

Things were made worse for Pappy because Mrs De Bruin's neighbours were Dutch Nazis. She warned Pappy about them, assuring him that although she was on very friendly terms with them it was only to avoid suspicion. However, this complicated the set-up because one day the Nazis asked if they could sleep in her house whilst they were having their bedroom redecorated. How could she refuse them?

She came upstairs in high terror and insisted that both men stay on their beds for the whole of the visit. She gave them a large supply of bread and milk, put a chamber pot next to them and forbade them to make one sound. In the end, the visit only lasted for two days but the whole incident began to unnerve Pappy. It brought home the stark reality of being totally dependent upon the goodwill and courage of Mrs De Bruin.

2
February 1943 Stalingrad: German Sixth Army surrenders

Till now it had seemed that the Germans were succeeding in Russia but the turning point came when the Russians and their winter defeated the Germans. With Pappy we listened to the glorious news over the BBC that 91,000 Germans had been captured. Pappy felt the end was at last in sight.

However the defeats in Africa and Russia only served to make the Germans more dedicated in their pursuit of the Jews. Rewards were offered for betraying Jews to the Gestapo and Pappy realized that the novelty of hiding us was wearing thin and that he and Heinz were in great danger. His fears increased when Mrs De Bruin became hostile, gradually giving them less food and making rude remarks. She demanded more and more money for hiding them and the money was beginning to run out. This unpleasant situation dragged on for nearly eighteen months by which time Pappy was extremely depressed. He kept begging Mutti to find them another hiding place.

Mutti and I were also in a predicament. When we arrived back in Amsterdam after one of our weekends away we were met inside the door by Mrs Klompe in a state of fright. The Gestapo had raided her house once again and threatened her.

‘Sheltering you both is becoming too much of a strain,' she said. She looked apologetic but was quite determined that we should go.

Of course we understood, but we had to wait for the help of the underground before we could be resettled, by which time the relationship between us had become very tense.

Eventually we were taken to stay with people whom we had actually known before.

He was Mr Reitsma, another brave Frieslander, married to a very talented Jewish artist. They were both elderly and their son Floris lived with them. They were very kind and made us feel welcome for the short time that we were to be with them. Mrs Reitsma was busy with her art commissions and was pleased to have Mutti take over the cooking from her.

By now food was extremely scarce in Holland so Mutti decided to risk a visit to our secret storage room to fetch some of our hidden food. It was unnecessary for both of us to expose ourselves to the danger of being captured so she went on her own and I waited in trepidation for her to return. Eventually, she brought back tins and packets of flour, rice, sugar, chocolates and cocoa and we thought what a feast we were going to have. But although the food was in good condition, everything had the strangest taste of mothballs. At any rate it was greatly appreciated and we managed to take some extra food over to Pappy and Heinz on our next visit.

By this time Pappy was even more depressed and was again begging Mutti to try to find another hiding place for them. Mutti realized his life was becoming unbearable because when she arrived Mrs De Bruin had cornered her and remarked pointedly, ‘Your fur coat is smart. It's quite wasted on you since you only go out once or twice a month. I have to do all the shopping for your husband and son so I suggest you give it to me.'

It was more of a demand than a request and Mutti felt she had to hand it over. We were being caught up in blackmail. We knew that moving Pappy and Heinz would not be easy but when we returned to Amsterdam we reported the situation to Mr Broeksma. He did not seem very surprised.

‘There is not much I can do,' he said. ‘Theirs is not a unique situation. Many others are being blackmailed. Even more are being handed over to the Gestapo for cash.'

Mutti turned white when she heard this but she was determined to try to alleviate Pappy's suffering. On her own initiative she went to see a Christian friend, Doortje, to ask her advice. As it happened, there was a nurse in the flat below who was known to work for the underground. Doortje promised to contact her, and she soon had good news for us. They had found a hiding place in Amsterdam. It would be nearer to us and we felt it would be safer all round.

It was certain that Mrs De Bruin would not relinquish her source of income easily so Pappy and Heinz made plans to escape during the night. They crept out of the house without detection and caught an early train into the city where they were met by the nurse. She hurried them to their new place of refuge nearer to us.

Everything seemed to be going according to plan. When we visited Pappy and Heinz the next day we all felt more content. Their new hiding place was in a huge, old house with enormous rooms and the couple who owned it were particularly friendly and kind. There seemed to be less pressure on us now and Mutti and I returned to our base at the Reitsmas that evening greatly reassured.

11 May 1944

It was my fifteenth birthday and this year it fell on a Tuesday. I woke early, snug in my little bedroom in the Reitsmas' house. I could hear the birds chirping, the sun was streaming through the window and I lay for a long time with my hands behind my head watching the trees outside the window and feeling good to be alive. The knowledge that Pappy and Heinz were safe nearby in their new quarters added to my happiness. We had visited them on Sunday and I was hoping, as it was a special day, that I would be able to see them today too.

At half past eight in the morning the Reitsmas sat down with us in their dining room to have a celebration birthday breakfast. Mrs Reitsma had placed a vase of hyacinths and tulips in the centre of the table, and Floris, their twenty-year-old son, solemnly handed me a small parcel as I sat down. ‘Keep this as a surprise,' he said, ‘open it after breakfast.'

How charming he was to me, I thought, blushing. I set the package carefully before me on the table. The wrapping paper had delicate pink roses painted on one side by the talented Mrs Reitsma. I was enchanted by it. I could hardly wait to open it, and the anticipation added to my excitement.

A sudden ring on the doorbell startled us. We were not expecting anyone. Who was calling at that time in the morning? Mr Reitsma got up from the table and went downstairs to open the door. To our sickening horror we heard the Gestapo storming in. Floris immediately sprang up, jumped over the table straight out of the window and disappeared over the rooftops. Within seconds the Gestapo officers had run up the stairs into the room and now stood there, eyeing the rest of us. Petrified with fear, we gazed at them and at the guards behind them who were pointing guns into the room.

‘Verfluchte Juden!
It's them!' they shouted.

We were numb with shock. Without giving us time to take anything with us they pushed us roughly downstairs and outside into the street to be marched to the Gestapo Headquarters a few streets away.

As the four of us were marched along, Mutti, who was desperate to save me, grabbed at the arm of the Dutch Nazi beside her and tried to convince him that I was not wholly Jewish. He pushed her to one side but she kept blurting out anything she could think of to get me released.

‘My daughter is not Jewish,' she said. ‘I had an affair with a non-Jew – my dentist... she is really his... she is not really Jewish at all.'

But it was no use. The faces of our captors were hard set and implacable. They had got what they had come for and had triumphed at last.

When we arrived at the red-brick secondary-school building that was now the Gestapo Headquarters we were pushed into a detention room where there were already some other people who had been caught in this roundup.

Armed guards stood at the door, the windows were shut, and wooden chairs had been placed around the walls where forlorn captives sat staring at the ground or out into space. Our hearts sank in misery as we joined them. No one looked up or tried to communicate with us. I was much too tense to cry. I sat in a corner next to Mutti who whispered to me ‘How?' We simply could not grasp how it had happened. We had not expected it at all – we had felt fairly secure. Despite the Nazi hatred of the Jews, we had trusted in the expertise of the Dutch underground. We sat for hours and waited.

One by one people were called out and taken away. Some were returned to the room to go on waiting, others were not. Nobody said a word. Occasionally one or two women cried quietly but no one comforted them or asked those who returned what had happened... we did not dare.

Sometimes we could hear screams coming from the room next door. We heard the sounds of beatings, of people weeping and crying out in pain and of German voices raised in anger. We sat frozen to our chairs sickened by the noises of terror.

Eventually it was Mutti's turn. She squeezed my arm before they led her away. I strained to hear any sounds I could from the room next door, listening for her cries, but I heard nothing. I sat alone for about half an hour.

Then they came for me.

A policeman in green uniform (Grune Polizei) took me into a sparsely furnished room that had a picture of Hitler hanging on the wall. I was made to stand in front of two Gestapo officers seated at a large desk. They both looked at me intently for several seconds until one of them spoke to me in polite German.

‘Tell us everything we want to know and you will see your mother,' he said.

‘You will be able to see your father and brother as well,' said the other.

I gasped. I had not realized Heinz and Pappy had also been caught.

‘My father and brother?' I blurted out, and then I was angry with myself for talking. Tears burnt behind my eyes but I was not going to let them see me react again if I could help it. I was determined not to tell them anything.

‘Of course, we have them as well,' the officer smiled coldly at me.

I suddenly began to tremble violently. I could not stop myself as they started to interrogate me in German, one after the other firing questions at me in quick succession. I was absolutely terrified of them.

‘How long have you been with the Reitsmas?'

‘We were just visiting.' I said.

‘Where have you been hiding?' They pushed papers around to each other on the desk.

‘I don't know,' I lied. ‘We arrived in the dark. It was a house in Amsterdam but I don't know where.'

‘Where did you get your ration card from?'

‘Where did your mother get her money from?'

‘Who helped you find places to hide?'

I pretended not to know anything. Somehow I managed to flannel my way through without giving anything away. I admitted I had lived in Merwedeplein but they knew we had gone into hiding. I described our landlady as being someone as unlike Mrs Klompe as I possibly could. I said she was short, dumpy and elderly and that I did not know her name.

After a while they gave up trying to get any more out of me and sent me back to the waiting room. Mutti was not there but I sat down feeling quite proud of myself. I was thinking what a good performance I had given when from the interrogation room came voices that I recognized, first of Pappy and then Heinz. Their voices were raised in shouts which soon turned to screams followed by an awful silence.