Ahoy for Joy (7 page)

Anna lived in a small town in the east of the Netherlands situated between Utrecht and Arnhem called Pijpersbos (pronounced Pipersboss and meaning
Piper's wood).
The name was derived from the small wooded area which surrounded the town on two sides and mostly defined its boundaries. Despite the ravages of World War Two it had survived fairly intact and represented a rather quaint example of a small Dutch country town. It had an old town of modest neo-gothic buildings, a central open square and residential areas with rows of attractive houses placed in small terraces along cobblestoned streets.

The town lay about 50km from the German border and in the late nineteen seventies, it was already relatively affluent as the economy of the Netherlands had grown rapidly in the post war years. The Dutch had discovered copious supplies of natural gas both off shore and in the Northern provinces which they used to fuel their economy. Outstanding language skills and a long tradition of trading and export served them well in a Europe that, through the European Economic Community (EEC), was increasingly open for business. The Port of Rotterdam was the biggest in the world and one of the major entrances to the continent from the West. Foreign organisations flocked to the area to set up trading or communications hubs in Europe and the well educated population who seemed able to transcend almost every cultural boundary were quick to exploit their skills. Despite this, the village of Pijpersbos was still out of the way of the heavy industry and trading centres of the
Randstad
, the triangle joining Rotterdam, Amsterdam and The Hague where most of the business and commerce of the Netherlands was centralised. In many ways, life was slow, a little old fashioned and quite idyllic.

Anna's family home was a single dwelling cottage not far from the town centre, built over 150 years ago and preserved as part of the cultural heritage of the town. While small, it was set back from the road and accessed via a little humped wooden bridge that crossed a small waterway that ran the length of the road and beyond. Although the villagers referred to it as a
Gracht
, or canal, it was really a small stream of slow moving water that fed into the river below, the village being situated in a slightly hilly area of a nation rather renowned for its flat landscape.

The quaint little building was set over three floors and constructed of the small, reddish brown bricks, common in the area, with a steeply pitched roof of terracotta tiles that angled over the top two floors. The gable end faced the road, with the edge of the roof trimmed with pristine white barge boards. The upper floors had small, white framed windows flanked with shutters painted in a dark olive green shade that matched with the paintwork of the front door and many of the other houses in the street. Anna's father kept the house in perfect condition, regularly painting the window frames and shutters as well as the little bridge which bore a small sign reading;
van der Vliet,
the family name of Anna's parents' household.

The main living area was fronted by a large, square picture window that faced the cobbled street. There were no curtains and Anna's mother had adorned it with crocheted screens at the top and plants on the sill that provided some privacy from the gaze of passers-by in the street outside as well as the warm reassurance of house proud residents. Inside, the floors were of polished hardwood and the carpet was more in the form of rugs that lay centrally in the rooms, rather than the wall to wall fitting that was more usual in the larger towns and cities. This was more of a style decision than an economic one and there was a general feeling in the house of a strong connection with the past. It was quaint, old fashioned and homely.

It had been a struggle bringing up the family in such a small house. There were three bedrooms in all; two on the floor above and a large attic accessed by a precariously steep staircase that spiralled from the landing, claiming almost no floor space at all. The three brothers had shared this room, but Anna, being the only girl had a bedroom to herself on the middle floor beside her parents' room. Perhaps they might have moved from there, but the quality of life was high and the house was rented and once relinquished, they would never be able to get it back again.

Two of Anna's older brothers had already left home, so there was now more room in the house and it was only Geert who was a full five years older and had taken Anna to England, who still lived in the house besides her parents. The oldest, Jan had gone to live in Amsterdam and married there a few years back. The family saw him only occasionally, for birthdays and other family events. The second brother, Piet had gone travelling, when Anna was just eleven and would send postcards and letters from all sorts of interesting and exotic places in the world. Currently, he was in South America, but nobody knew where exactly. Whatever his plans, they had always changed by the time the next postcard arrived and he would be in a different country and usually with different people. Now and again, he would find himself in Europe once more and stop by the family home, often unannounced, but never stay for more than a few days at a time.

The Gymnasium school Anna attended was situated in the larger town of Veenendal and Anna would travel by bicycle each day, rain, hail or snow the 11km in each direction to attend classes. She was a bright and popular girl who participated enthusiastically in all aspects of school life. It was a co-educational establishment and by the age of fourteen or fifteen her soft features and relaxed disposition had already attracted some attention from the boys in class. However, she responded little to the advances she received. This may have been initially as she hadn't felt ready for any form of relationship, but as the months went by and her friendship with Michael developed, she increasingly came to feel more unavailable than uninterested.

She never considered herself beautiful, apart from perhaps one summer evening when she was in front of the bathroom mirror, preparing to go out with some friends and the sunlight caught her loose hair and reflected in her blue eyes. She smiled approvingly for a moment to herself, but this was not a thought that would linger. As she got older, she came to wear a little shadow around her eyes when she was going out in the evening as well as some lipstick of a shade so close to her natural colouring, that it was almost invisible. This was really only a sop to her friends, a gesture to fit in, rather than any personal wish to enhance her beauty or serve her vanity. However, she was quite beautiful, but her beauty was natural, innate and existed in her whole aura and not just in her physical appearance.

Anna wrote extensively about her family and her parents. Her mother, Adrie had lived on Anna's grandparent's farm in the East of the Netherlands, not far from the current home of the van der Vliet family. Anna's father had originally been from the province of South Holland, close to the sea and when they had married, had joined his wife in her community, rather than she joining him in his. The family had lived in Pijpersbos ever since.

The farm was situated not far from the German border and in 1940, when the invasion took place, Adrie was just fifteen years old. It was a horrific period, but really rather short lived in itself and the family quickly accustomed themselves to a life under occupation. It would not be until 1944 that the true horrors of war would pass close by as the world's superpowers of the day faced each other in bloody conflict.

It was just after dawn one day in late 1944 and Adrie was out feeding the chickens in the yard when she saw a man walking across the field, his form silhouetted against the rising sun. She watched him for some time but his progress was so slow that she eventually picked up a pitchfork and ventured out onto the field herself taking cover behind a bale of hay. At first she looked on with apprehension, but as he came closer she gained a better view. He was bearded with neglect and emaciated, limping slightly, his short paces hardly hastening him to his destination.

At last he had advanced level with her and she called out softly. At first he didn't respond, but she raised her voice a little louder and he quickly turned towards her, startled and in fear. These were dangerous days and that part of Holland was still under occupation, but he seemed harmless and unarmed, so she decided to reveal herself and stepped out from behind the bale. Facing him she could see the look of desperation in his narrow eyes. He looked to be maybe in his late twenties with skin reddened from exposure and gaunt with hunger. He wore brown canvas trousers that hung limply off his hips with hems trailing that caught on the grass stubble below. At last she motioned towards him, but he fell to the ground even before she arrived.

She rushed over and knelt by his side. At first he spoke in a kind of broken German, but she quickly realised he was Dutch. She brought him back to the house where she fed him coffee and potatoes. He seemed disorientated and thought he was still in Germany. Adrie concluded that he must have escaped from the Nazis and simply headed west. He stayed at the farm for several weeks, gaining strength each day, before transporting back to his home in South Holland to see what was left of the life he had left behind. However, he promised to return once he had found his feet and thank the family properly.

When the war was over, he did return, now healthy and rested. He came bearing gifts and stayed several days, once more enjoying the hospitality of the farm. He was just about to leave and tearful goodbyes were being said all around when Adrie surprised herself and everyone else by asking him to stay longer. The couple were married in 1947. After thirty years Anna's mother had still never learned of how or why he came to be walking across her field that day.

For those who survived World War II, their experiences will have been influenced entirely by their personal situations. For much of the British population and that of the free allies, the war was a period of unity and purpose, of bravery and heroics punctuated by grief and horror. These were the inevitable side effects of a heroic struggle of good against evil. However, for many in the Nazi occupied territories, such as the Netherlands, the experiences were more of degradation and humiliation, of unpalatable choices forced by unreasonable captors and of shame and desperation. For some peacetime never managed to countenance the past and everyone sought to deal with their own experiences as best they could. For some who survived, the war would never truly be over.

Anna's father never spoke of his experience of the war, or the
occupation
as he called it. Neither she, nor as far as she knew, her mother or any of her brothers, knew anything of where he had lived, if he had spent any time in Holland or been interned in Germany to work in their factories. They didn't know if he had fought in any way or otherwise what he had done or indeed had done to him. There were no stories, no tales of gallantry and intrigue or even fear and incarceration. Nothing. Instead, there was just a great big burden of hatred for the German nation and people that he carried around with him everywhere he went. Sometimes it would exist as a passive emotion, but other times, usually stimulated by a small event, a comment or newspaper story, he would become agitated and animated and his burden would become apparent to those around him. Anna was troubled by her father's past and especially by his present day attitude to it and she had confided her thoughts on the subject more than once in her letters to Michael;

“Oh Michael. Please say you'll always forgive. Please do say you will, for hatred is a burden to carry, heavier than any weight known to God or man. My father cannot see through the hatred in his eyes. It is eating him up, consuming him. The Germans don't care. They're sorry anyway. I'm quite sure they are, but even if they aren't what good is it doing him? None! He's just sending himself to an early grave while the Germans rebuild their economy and worry about the Russians invading. They have forgotten him or whatever they did to him a long time ago. He causes them no harm. The only one he hurts is himself.”

He wouldn't buy a German car, or any other goods from Germany, nor would he have them in the house. This was increasingly a challenge, for trade between the two nations was brisk and the Germans were adept at producing quality manufactured goods that most homes wanted. She feared for him, but there was no talking about that particular subject. It was just something they never did. In truth, she hadn't ever tried. She assumed her brothers may have asked questions some years ago, but as her years of teenage consciousness developed, she grew to feel more and more the burden he bore. It was in the way he walked, he stooped. She described it, “like someone is tearing the pages of history from a book and they are landing on his back, slowly piling up, crushing him with their message. He carries the weight of his past and every day a new page of history lands, crushing him ever deeper into the mire of hatred that permeates his soul.”

In his mind, Michael had reflected on the conflict in his own society that he had at first thought quite unique, but Anna's words had made him confront more consciously the legacy Ireland has always left its children. He realised that without forgiveness, history was set to repeat itself again and again. Whatever the transgressions of the past, however foul, however severe, however evil, there would never be peace without forgiveness. Forgiveness was essential.

He had written back, quite unusually outside of his usual prose, expressing himself now rather, formally and promising a firm undertaking on his part to forgive others for any transgression against him. He made no conditions, like demanding remorse or expecting his own absolution in return. His statement had been plain, succinct and unambiguous. A pledge from which there was no escape. This had pleased Anna, for she saw this as a fundamental instrument of life, one not to be diluted or compromised. Furthermore, if the pages of history had been landing on her father's back consuming him with hate, the petals of love had been falling on her for a while, each one stopping to kiss her on the face or hair or shoulders before accumulating around her in an emotion she felt less and less inclined to temper.