THE SCARRED OAK. William Walraven
with them made many of the normal, peaceful Dutchmen into wild, raving maniacs. True, many German collaborators who had assisted the German Gestapo in murdering thousands of Dutchmen deserved everything that was coming to them, but in times like this also, many innocent countrymen fell victim to this uncontrollable revenge-seeking mobs.
Eric went with Nico to a close-by city to witness the degradation of all women who were picked up for being wives or girlfriends of German soldiers or German collaborators. The marketplace in front of the centuries-old city hall was already filled with impatient people waiting for the main event. A loud roar went up when finally the autos arrived with the women, who were already in a state of shock. Rudely, like animals, they were pulled from the autos and pushed and pulled up the steps to the balcony of the city hall. Some women had been picked up early in the morning and were only wearing a nightgown under their raincoats. The events that followed made Eric and many decent people sick to their stomach.
Each woman was pushed forward to the railing. While protesting their innocence, they first got their hair shaven off in front of wildly shouting people. Some of these women fainted but were revived by a pail of cold water thrown over them. Next, they were painted black asphalt swastikas on their bald head. One fairly heavy woman fainted, and while hanging over the railing, one of her breasts protruded from her nightgown. The mob started shouting all kinds of obscenities; this became screaming when one of the beastly ODs painted the breast with tar. By now, many people, including Eric and Nico, had seen enough of this barbarism. They left for home, but their spaces were quickly filled with the latecomers, and the shouting and screaming went on into late in the afternoon.
After a couple of weeks of celebrating their liberation and also committing these outrageous brutalities, the Dutch people calmed down, and the healing of wounds and the clean-up and rebuilding of battle scars began. For Eric and Nico, the days that followed were times of excitement. The schoolhouse was taken over by American forces. All day long, the two practically lived with the American soldiers, and in no time, they picked up some of the English language. English—or, for that matter, the American language—sounded to a Dutchman like someone trying to speak with a hot potato in his mouth. “Chewing gum,” “cigarettes for Papa,” and “chocolate for Mama” were known after a few days, followed by “yes,” “no,” “thank you,” and “okay.”
On the other side of border, all the German villages were evacuated when the American forces broke through. All the farm animals that were left behind, like horses, cattle, sheep, goats, and heavy oxen, were driven over the border to the Dutch villagers to be taken care of. Most cows and oxen that came over the border to Eric’s village were driven onto the village soccer field. Eric and many other youngsters who worked at farms knew that it was high time for these cows’ overly full udders to be unloaded. Many days in a row, Eric, like the other boys, would carry a pail and a small three-legged stool to the soccer field to milk the cows.
One day, Theo, one of the village boys who had never worked at a farm, seeing Eric passing by day after day to the soccer field, wanted to be part of the group and followed him. Arriving at the field, Eric, knowing that Theo didn’t know anything about farming, showed him how to milk a cow.
“Is that all there is to it?” said Theo, thinking that these farm boys made so much out of nothing. “Which cow should I take?”
A mean streak arose in Eric’s mind. “Why don’t you take the big fat one over there? Then you will have your pail full in no time,” Eric replied.
Theo walked over to the huge animal, thinking how dumb Eric was, milking a meager cow and giving him the big one. Out of the corner of his eye, practically not able to keep from bursting out laughing, Eric watched Theo crawling all around the animal.
Finally, with a hopeless look on his face, Theo shouted, “I can’t find it!”
“What can’t you find?” replied Eric.
“The udder!” Theo shouted. At the same time, he got hit hard by the tail of the ox, who didn’t agree at all with Theo’s searching hands on his belly.
All the youngsters on the field, who had kept quiet while watching this setup, now let loose and laughed and teased Theo, following him down the field. Theo’d had forever enough of farming and had gained the nickname of Ox.
The younger teenagers quickly got used to the American soldiers and started looking for new excitement. One of the youngsters, Hans, who was the village roughneck, started a club. Actually, it was like a little army. Hans was the general. Their hideout was in one of the woods surrounding the village. Marching neatly in rows, using sticks for rifles and fighting an invisible German army in the woods, was a new excitement. Eric, too young but tall for his age, was accepted in this army, and Nico, who didn’t want to be separated from Eric, was accepted as a Red Cross soldier. Secret pathways were laid out in the woods with markers showing misleading directions to the base camp to have intruders walk in the wrong direction for miles.
For a while, this playing satisfied them, but the constant search for excitement made them look to new avenues. It all started with a German rifle one of the youngsters found in the woods. It had a broken stock but otherwise was in good working condition. German ammunition could be found all over, and in no time at all, the rifle was ready for operation. The broken stock of the rifle held tightly against a big rock and the rifle tied down with metal straps elevated by rocks in the direction of a German village church tower opened up a new form of playing. Soon the boys knew the difference between regular rounds of ammunition and tracer bullets. Only a select few were chosen to load and fire the rifle, and Eric was one of them. In the early evening, this group set up the rifle. After connecting a long rope to the trigger, the boys loaded it at the command of the general, but the general would fire the rifle. This could only be done for a few rounds each evening at different locations to stay away from the American MPs.
All that still was not enough, and it went from bad to worse. They needed more excitement. Soon they went over to robbing American supply trucks. If one of the trucks was chosen to be robbed after days of watching what the load was all about, an evening was set for the daring deed. One or two boys would start fooling around in front of the truck, getting the attention of the soldier who was on guard. Once the coast was clear at the back of the truck, the remaining youngsters would rob everything they could get their hands on. Within a matter of weeks, the camp had a supply of rifles, ammunition (including hand grenades), boxes filled with canned foods, and even a box with surgery instruments enough to outfit an operating room.
Naturally, the parents of the youngsters didn’t know about this and still believed that the kids were only playing innocent games. These supposedly innocent games ended up in near disaster for the general. One of the robbed boxes contained fuses and very small sticks of dynamite. This discovery gave the reckless, daring youngsters new ideas. They were going to explode their own bridge. It took them days to build a bridge from piece of wood, rocks, branches, and mud over one of the drainage creeks. The small dynamite sticks were inserted into the bridge, and the long fuses were laid over a higher ridge to be thrown into a small fire. The soldiers would hide behind the high ridge, while the general had his own hideout closer to the bridge. The raising of one hand of the general was the signal to fire. Then all went wrong.
Seeing a raised hand from the general, the boys quickly threw the bundles of fuses into the fire, not knowing that the general was only inspecting the bridge for the last time and, while trying to keep his balance, had raised his arm. After a loud explosion, they found their general unconscious and bleeding all over. The general was lucky, and after a few weeks in the hospital, with only a few broken ribs and numerous cuts and bruises, he could return home. It was also the end of their army because shortly after this incident, the village people, with the help of American soldiers, who by now had found out about the supposedly innocent games, destroyed the camp and punished the youngsters.
The village meadows, school, ballroom, and large homes were occupied by the American forces. Eric’s home was completely filled with high-ranking officers and was used as a central location for the high command. Only his parents’ bedroom was off limits to the forces. Two majors used the remaining bedrooms. The very sturdy basement was converted into a central communications station. A huge bundle of telephone cables