From the time Mutti and I went into hiding, I entered a seemingly protected world. My days were spent entirely in the company of my mother and I remember them as full of warmth and love. During the next two years, hidden in our attic, she taught me German, French, geography and history out of books brought in by Mrs Klompe. Once or twice a week Mr Broeksma came to teach me Dutch and maths. I wanted to learn and occupied my time well but, unlike Heinz, I was not extremely bright and it did not come easily to me. I struggled along on my own, missing the company of other pupils intensely. Sometimes I would lie on my bed yearning for the old times in the square when we raced around like mad things on our bicycles. In my tiny attic cubicle I would kick my legs high into the air and fling my body around in an agony of pent-up energy and frustration at being young and imprisoned.
But occasionally, very occasionally, there were days of joyful reunion with Pappy and Heinz. Their hiding place was in the countryside at Soesdijk and it was truly perilous when we visited them because we had to travel by train. Oddly enough, we would never have dared to go out to the local shops for fear of being recognized by locals but we did venture farther out by pretending that we were ending our visit to Mrs Klompe.
Pappy’s landlady, Mrs De Bruin, allowed us to stay for the weekend and we would return to Amsterdam on Monday morning with the commuters. On the rare glorious Fridays of our visit we would leave the house carrying our small suitcases and walk to the railway station. It was a strange sensation being outside again. But since we were both fair-skinned and looked like any other Dutch mother and daughter, with luck we could walk incognito in the crowd. Nevertheless, it was extremely risky: we were scared all the time, especially as we were occasionally stopped by police or soldiers at the station barrier when Mutti had to show her false identity card. As I was still under sixteen I was not required to have one but I did have to have my story off pat if I was asked questions. I never was; I must have looked too authentic to arouse suspicion.
Invariably the trains were full of soldiers, and the SS often made searches during the journey. We tried to look unconcerned whilst having to rub shoulders with our bitterest enemies. This journey was always harrowing, but it was worth it all just to be with Pappy and Heinz.
As soon as we were united in Mrs De Bruin’s attic rooms my parents would shut themselves away to be alone, and Heinz and I would be left to ourselves to talk. Overnight, Mutti shared Pappy’s room and I lay on a mattress on the floor in Heinz’s room. In the darkness I would creep over to his bed and climb in next to him for a cuddle. We started kissing and hugging with the joy of being together again, until all our suppressed energy and budding sexuality began to arouse us. The kissing and cuddling became more and more furtively pleasant. We would start to pet each other, feeling blissful surges of adolescent love. We did not really do anything wrong and we were very scared that our parents would find out what we were up to, but we could not help ourselves. We only had each other to love. When I was alone in my attic bed I cried for Heinz, missing him more than anything.
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.