A Glider Pilot's Story - continued (4)

CHAPTER 4

We had been lucky. But we had also proved a point. It wasn't all that easy for the Germans to find us. The deserted appearance of the downstairs and the outside locality had not encouraged them to search thoroughly. Our greatest danger had been that of losing our nerve and thinking that discovery was certain. We had all been alarmed, which is a mild way of saying that we had been very frightened. One of our group had exacerbated this state by voicing his fears in hoarse whispers. These were to the effect that "You'll 'ave to pack it in sarge. If they throw an 'effing grenade up them stairs, we've all 'ad it." In the event we had all managed to stay calm and quiet enough to avoid being discovered. I think also that one of the things in our favour was that the Germans had already searched the rest of the village; we were at the back end and they were just about ready to call it off.

Our basic problems still remained. We decided to move out as soon as it was dark. We needed news; we also needed bread; for both of these we needed help. I suggested that we should make our way towards Ouwerkerk, to the farm of Jan Romeijn and seek his help. On the way we paused outside the farm of Keiser Romeijn, although up to that moment I did not know his name. I had not made the family connection, but Phil and Herman had. They had to show me the nameplate by his front door before I was convinced. We continued on our way, arriving about an hour after we had set out.

When we came to the farm we circled the buildings very quietly. Everywhere was quiet. It was a dark night and there was no sign of a light. We knocked quietly on the door. A few moments went by before a voice in Dutch asked quietly who it was. Herman answered for us and the door was opened. Jan stood there in the shadows. Closing the door behind him, he came outside to talk to us. Greeting us with a smile, he was quiet and calm as though a visit from the likes of us was not in the least unusual. What news he had was not encouraging. At Arnhem things were going badly. This was shattering.

All of us had close friends and comrades at Arnhem. We were concerned for them. Until then we had naturally been preoccupied with our own difficulties and although we had thought about them we had not been unduly concerned. It also meant that we would have to lie low for much longer than just a few days. Suddenly Jan broke off the conversation and went back inside. We stood around disconsolately - a forlorn little group. Apparently he had gone back inside to bring us some food. Soon he returned with some apples which he distributed amongst us. He also gave us two large loaves. We asked him if he had any ideas about where we could hide in reasonable safety. He suggested that the next farm might be all right. The farmer, Mijnheer van den Stolpe was not living there and it was deserted. After thanking him for his help we wished him goodnight and moved on.

The v.d. Stolpe farm was separated from Jan's farm by one large field. It was still very dark as we made our way across the field. We were still wet from our journey. The farmhouse and buildings looked deserted. We were rather unsure of ourselves and at first just walked around to get the lie of the land. By now it was quite windy and there was rain on the wind. There was the house and close to it a large barn. To the side was a large open structure with a roof supported by tubular steel poles. This was a covered rick which held a large number of straw bales. We climbed up and concealed ourselves among the bales. For some reason we were reluctant to enter the barn and at that moment thought that this open arrangement of bales offered a safer haven. With my jack-knife I cut half a dozen thick slices from one of the loaves. As we munched the bread and apples, we fidgeted and tried to arrange ourselves as comfortably as possible between the bales. That we were not very successful was due, I think, to the state of our wet clothes and the fact that it now blowing and raining hard.

I think it was another hour or so before we actually went into the barn. We were glad of the shelter; there was one area which had quite a lot of hay spread over the floor with enough room for all of us to burrow into and keep warm. The only drawback was the dust which not only found its way into mouth and nose but also produced a great deal of itching as it worked its way down the back of the neck. We found that our airborne camouflage scarves were quite useful in filtering _ much of the dust. Another part of the barn had been designed for the use of animals and we used this as a toilet. We passed the rest of the night in comparative comfort.

The following morning I rationed out the rest of the first loaf. There still remained the second one. During the morning we pottered around inside the barn. By moving around and peering through the cracks in the walls which ran lengthways it was possible to obtain about 300 degrees of vision, though there was not much to see. On one side was the gravelled farmyard between the barn and the hayrick. Beyond this was the field we had crossed the previous night. At the other side of the field was the Grote Ioofstede though it was not directly visible. Through the cracks in the barn door at one end, we could look out to the back of the farm house. Across the field in the other direction lay another farm and its buildings, and beyond it the village of Ouwerkerk. Outside the greatest activity was that of the jackdaws. Strutting, fluttering, chattering noisily, they concentrated mainly in the area of the hayrick.

Inside there was much less activity. Phil and I spent much of the time discussing the wisdom or otherwise of remaining in our present position. At some time later during the morning one of our group had gone to the "toilet". This part of the barn looked out across the nearby field towards Ouwerkerk. There across the fields we could see two German soldiers. Soon we were all observing carefully between the cracks. There were more than two - they were setting up a machine gun on its tripod close to a barn about 200 yards away. We continued to watch them for more than an hour. Occasionally one would have a smoke when he was apparently out of sight. At one moment another was obviously having a pee. As we watched, our main concern was in case they should come in our direction. It appeared to us, that having failed to discover us in Nieuwerkerk, they were now searching Ouwerkerk; the group we were observing were meant to stop us if we were flushed out.

However all this was really a diversion from the main problems - concealment and food supply. The two loaves we had been given the previous evening had been a generous gift but were not likely to last very long with six of us. Two facts stood out: successful concealment was less likely with six than with a smaller number; successful feeding was less likely with six than with a smaller number. Phil and I discussed this at length and eventually we came to a conclusion. It would be better if we split up.

The formula we hit on was to become three groups of two. (With hindsight I think we might have chosen two groups of three.) I called the others together. Putting our problems to them as clearly as I could, I outlined my proposals for improving our chances of evading capture.

a) We would split the group into three pairs.
b) Phil and I were a team and we would stay together.
c) The paratrooper and the driver were well known to each other - they would also be a pair.
d) The private in the South Staffs and Herman, the Dutch Commando were both rather the odd man out; they would be together and as a pair would have the advantage that one could speak the language.
e) Before darkness I would ration out what food remained among the three pairs.
f) The other two pairs would receive a copy of my map. I would retain the original.
g) We would draw lots.

The pair drawing number 1 would leave the barn as soon as it became dark enough. Pair number 2 would leave one hour later and pair number 3 would have the option of remaining where they were or leaving after another hour.

Having outlined my proposals and the reasons for them I invited comments; in particular over the pairings. There was general agreement and after making sure what our intentions were, I spent the next couple of hours in preparation.

As soon as it was dark enough, we sent the paratrooper and the R.A.S.C. driver on their way, each with a one-sixth share of the remaining food. This was no more than three ounces of bread and an apple, supplemented by a share of our emergency rations. These had been issued to Phil and me and consisted of concentrated chocolate in sealed tins on which were embossed the instructions that they were only to be opened when no other food had been supplied during the previous twenty-four hours.

We decided that the emergency was upon us. Opening the tins, we broke up the chocolate which was so solid that even with a jack-knife, it was difficult to apportion with any degree of accuracy. Each man's share amounted to about three ounces. In addition to these meagre supplies, each pair was equipped with a map of the island, assiduously copied by me on to toilet paper, together with a sketch map showing its position relative to Overflakkee, Beveland, Walcheren and the mainland. Phil and I retained the original. There was handshaking all round and they disappeared into the darkness accompanied by the only commodity which was not in short supply - our good wishes. We noted the time and after an hour, despatched the private from the South Staffs and Herman in similar fashion.

After the second departure, Phil and I passed most of the next hour discussing the options which were open to us. In accordance with the plan we had decided on earlier in the day, we had the choice of staying in the barn or leaving it. After due consideration we concluded that our best course of action would be to return to Nieuwerkerk where we would feel more confident in remaining concealed and obtaining food. On the way we would call on Jan and inform him of the new situation.

When the hour was up, we left the barn and headed for the Grote Hoofstede. On arrival, we were welcomed by Jan who was rather surprised that there were now only two of us. After we had explained our reasons for splitting up, he nodded approvingly and assured us of whatever assistance he could provide. We told him of our intention to return to Nieuwerkerk. We also arranged that we would visit him every four or five days. He was going to be our lifeline, keeping us up-to-date with news of the outside world and even more important, the provider of the staple elements of our diet.

Already it was beginning to look as though we had won the first prize in the lottery (for departure times), held earlier that day at the v.d. Stolpe farm. As we set off for Nieuwerkerk with our supply of food augmented by an additional gift of bread and apples, our morale was probably higher than at any time in the previous week.

The journey took about an hour and not even the discomfort of wading most of the way through cold water, varying in depth between knee and chest, could dampen our new-found high spirits. However we were relieved to leave the water at the back of the hotel, where the street level rose as it neared the square. On we continued until we reached the house on the Molenweg which was to be our sanctuary and where we had already survived a search by the Germans. Carefully stepping over the weeds which drooped across the path to the front door, we went round to the back, opened the kitchen window, closed it behind as we entered, and quickly went upstairs. Removing our wet clothes, we dried ourselves and crawled into bed, shivering. After some quiet conversation which reflected our present, good fortune we slowly warmed up and slept soundly.

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