Old Aalten

Category: Infrastructure

  • Pastor Van Rooijen

    Pastor Van Rooijen

    Parish Priest (1916-1945)

    Pastor Christianus Franciscus Bonifatius van Rooijen (1876–1945) was a well-loved figure. He commanded great respect not only among his parishioners but also among the Jewish residents of Aalten. During his walks with his loyal German Shepherd, Frits, he would tip his hat and greet Jewish fellow citizens with a slight bow.

    Bombing Raid

    On the afternoon of Sunday, 28 January 1945, many people were gathered in the Roman Catholic Church for the Benediction (Lof). Suddenly, a number of ‘Jabos’ (Allied fighter-bombers) broke through the cloud cover and dropped their bomb load. On the Kemena, Admiraal de Ruijterstraat, and Stationsstraat, the damage was limited to property.

    At the Roman Catholic Church, however, the consequences were more severe. One bomb fell in front of the church, and another struck the rectory. Panic ensued, and the blast pressure caused statues to fall from their niches and walls to collapse.

    The churchgoers escaped unharmed, though they were covered in dust and many suffered bruises and abrasions. There was a massive bomb crater in front of the main entrance to the church. However, the bomb that had struck the rectory had more tragic consequences.

    The pastor’s housekeeper, 57-year-old Johanna Maria Klein Rouweler, was severely injured and passed away a few days later in the emergency hospital in Harreveld. Pastor Van Rooijen also lost his life and was not discovered until hours later that night. His death touched the hearts of residents of all denominations, and his funeral at the Roman Catholic cemetery on Piet Heinstraat was attended by a great many people.

    Pastor Christianus Franciscus Bonifatius van Rooijen
    Pastor van Rooijen with dog

    20th Anniversary of Priesthood

    In 1936, Pastor Van Rooijen celebrated 20 years in the priesthood, and De Graafschapbode newspaper devoted an article to this anniversary:

    “Tuesday, 8 December, will mark 20 years since the Reverend Pastor Van Rooijen was installed here as successor to Pastor Wubbels, who departed for Dalfsen. On this milestone in the pastoral life of Pastor Van Rooijen, we requested him to tell us a little about the past two decades. Although His Reverence did not consider 20 years an official milestone usually celebrated, he was kindly prepared to provide us with some information and to pose for our illustrator.

    Pastor Van Rooijen was born on 13 February 1876 in Utrecht. After attending school there, he completed his studies at the Seminaries in Culemborg and Rijssenburg. His first post as curate was Oosterhout (Gelderland), a position he later exchanged for the Twente industrial centre of Enschede. From there, Curate Van Rooijen was installed as Parish Priest here on 8 December 1916.

    Over the past 20 years, the jubilarian has experienced all the ups and downs—in recent years, especially many ‘downs’. He worked here alone until 23 August 1935. On that date, he received the assistance of Curate J. Snoeren.

    When we speak of the ‘downs’, we know we have touched upon a subject very dear to His Reverence’s heart. It is well known, even among those of other faiths, that Pastor Van Rooijen personally does a great deal to alleviate the suffering of his parishioners, but also how indignant he often is when young people, who earn a decent wage, show so little willingness to contribute.

    A well-known example is the daily provision of a free glass of milk to children at the Roman Catholic school who are in need. This milk distribution has been running for two years now and is undoubtedly of great benefit to the general health of the younger generation. The ‘Hulp in Nood’ (Help in Need) fund of the Roman Catholic Workers’ Association, to which members contribute a small weekly amount to assist one another in emergencies (childbirth, illness, etc.), is also an initiative of the jubilarian. In the previous financial year, 385 guilders were raised in this manner.

    Pastor Van Rooijen was particularly satisfied with the house visits he and the curate have made over the past 14 days, with the twofold purpose of assessing the situation in various households and collecting donations for the provision of clothing, blankets, and, if possible, a Christmas gift for needy families. To date, these visits have already raised over 800 guilders—more than His Reverence had dared to hope. That this should be so successful precisely in this 20th year will undoubtedly bring the jubilarian great satisfaction.

    We shall suffice by mentioning that in these 20 years, the Roman Catholic Church has received a hot-air heating system, and during this time, the fashion vocational school and various sports associations have flourished.”

    Sources

    • Graafschapbode, 4 December 1936 (Delpher)
  • Johannes der Weduwen

    Johannes der Weduwen

    ‘Doctor of the resistance’

    Johannes (Joop) der Weduwen was a popular general practitioner in Aalten. On January 23, 1945, he came near Apeldoorn to die after being shot at by an Allied plane, at least according to the German authorities.

    Joop der Weduwen was born on May 17, 1902 in Aalten. He studied at the Gymnasium in Doetinchem, later at the University of Utrecht, where he took his medical exam and then obtained his doctorate in medicine. He showed himself to be a worthy successor to his father and established himself here as a doctor.

    From the beginning of the war, Joop der Weduwen became involved in the resistance in the Achterhoek. He actively offered help to people who were wanted by the Germans. His family included two young men who refused to do labor service. If English planes were shot down and the crew was injured, he offered them medical assistance. For a robbery at the distribution office in Borculo , his car was ‘stolen’. He helped Jewish people in hiding on various farms in the area. He also played a role in the abandonment of the Jewish baby ‘Wíllem Herfstink’ at the house of resistance leader ‘Uncle Jan’ Wikkerink.

    Assistance to forced labourers

    In the last winter of the war, Joop der Weduwen felt closely involved with the forced labourers who had to do their slave work under inhumane conditions, especially in Camp Rees . That camp was just across the border in Germany. As a representative of the Dutch Red Cross, he negotiated with Peter Röhrig, the commander known as the executioner of Rees to remove the sick and wounded.

    He tried to transfer as many people as possible to Aalten, where ‘Huize Avondvrede‘ on the Hogestraat had been set up as an emergency hospital. Many were also transported by car from the GP to the Emergency Hospital in Harreveld. Some sick people stayed at his home temporarily and then went into hiding.

    Johannes (Joop) der Weduwen
    Joop der Weduwen are convertible

    On 19 January 1945, Doctor Der Weduwen, accompanied by two SS men from the Rees camp, left for The Hague for an official meeting with high-ranking German officers and the mayor there. On behalf of the Red Cross, he pleaded for better conditions for the forced labourers, many of whom came from The Hague and Rotterdam. The men had to spend the nights on the bare floors in draughty and damp wooden sheds, had meager clothes and hardly got anything to eat. To improve their inhuman existence somewhat, he asked for straw bags, among other things.

    Fateful return journey

    During the return trip to Aalten, on January 23, 1945, the car he was in was fired upon by an Allied fighter plane near Apeldoorn around five o’clock in the afternoon, at least according to the German authorities.

    His lifeless body was found badly mutilated in a dry ditch, where he had tried to take cover. He had lost a lot of blood and had died on the spot. The car was undamaged. There were strong rumors that the Germans deliberately attacked him because he had become too troublesome. Joop der Weduwen was 43 years old.

    Willem van Houtum, Apeldoorn’s war chronicler, wrote about it in his diary on 23 January:

    “A doctor from Aalten, who interfered a lot with the condition of the deportees in Rees, died of German indifference. The doctor left for The Hague last Friday with two Germans in a car. He wanted to plead with high authorities for the improvement of the treatment of our compatriots in Rees and so on. It was to no avail. As a result, they returned on Tuesday. They were shot at by an English plane on the concrete road near Hoog Soeren. The doctor got out of the car in a hurry to take cover but collapsed badly injured. The two Germans took away the wallet, wallet and so on and drove on to the Ortskommandant in Apeldoorn. He refused to transport the doctor because it was a civilian. So the two Krauts drove on to Aalten and handed over the wallet and so on to the doctor’s wife. This in turn could not provide transport either. She called in the help of a family member in Apeldoorn. With the help of the police, he succeeded in having the body (the doctor had died of excessive blood loss) transferred to Aalten. Due to the many shelling, the concrete section of the Amersfoortseweg near Hoog Soeren is already popularly called ‘Dodenweg’.”

    Police report

    Tuesday 23 January 1945, 17.00 hours, report no. 23.
    Informs Zegers in Nieuw Millingen that a man has just been shot dead by guns. A car is also on fire. Criminal Investigation Department, Feldgendarmerie, Pol. Officer and L.B.D. notified. The body is picked up by the L.B.D. (= Air Protection Service) and transferred to the hospital on the Sprengenweg.

    Wednesday 24 January 1945, 5.45 p.m., report no. 24.
    With regard to the mutation of the report of the order police of 23-01-1945 at 17.00 hours, detective Adema reports that the body of the said person was picked up by the L.B.D. and laid out in the morgue of the hospital on the Sprengenweg. It has been identified as Dr. Johan der Weduwen, living at Landstraat 4, in Aalten. His brother-in-law Wissink, living at Stationsstraat 25 here, has been informed of this, who takes care of warning the family and the funeral.

    Funeral

    On Saturday, January 27, Joop der Weduwen was buried with great interest to Berkenhove cemetery in Aalten. The procession counted at least 1000 people. Previously, a funeral service had been held in the Old Helena Church under the leadership of Rev. J.D. Stegeman, emeritus pastor in Aalten. On behalf of the forced labourers, Mr Dijkgraaf from The Hague spoke a word of thanks and farewell.

    Friends, patients and villagers had a special memorial stone made in front of his grave in gratitude and to honor him. The text on the monument reads: “His conviction made him offer help to the oppressed – resistance – deportees.”

    His name is also mentioned on the memorial stone for the fallen in the organized resistance on the Markt in Aalten, next to the Old Helena Church.

    On March 31, 2023, a Stolperstein was laid in front of the house where Joop der Weduwen lived, Landstraat 41 in Aalten.

    Grave Joop der Weduwen

    Sources

  • ‘Uncle Jan’ Wikkerink

    ‘Uncle Jan’ Wikkerink

    Hendrik Jan Wikkerink (30 June 1896 – 18 January 1981), known by his alias ‘Uncle Jan’ (‘Ome Jan’), was a key resistance leader in Aalten during World War II. In 1942, in his home on the Patrimoniumstraat in Aalten, he helped found the Landelijke Organisatie voor Hulp aan Onderduikers (LO – National Organisation for Aid to People in Hiding), working alongside figures such as ‘Aunt Riek’ (‘Tante Riek’) from Winterswijk.

    Resistance Work

    'Uncle Jan' Wikkerink (1896–1981)
    ‘Uncle Jan’ Wikkerink (1896–1981)

    Throughout the war, ‘Uncle Jan’ was actively involved in the resistance. He helped escaped prisoners of war and downed Allied airmen flee via Belgium to England. He also arranged hiding places for Jewish citizens and Dutch nationals who refused to work for the German occupying forces.

    With the courage and support of many farmers, he provided shelter for those in hiding. The LO coordinated safe houses and the distribution of food ration coupons. A well-known story is that of the Jewish baby, Willem Herfstink. The newborn was the son of the Aalten rabbi, Jedwab. The couple was in hiding in Lintelo, but the baby could not remain at that location. With ‘Uncle Jan’s’ knowledge, the child was left on his doorstep as a ‘foundling’. This staged discovery meant that the child—subsequently named Willem—was given shelter with the Wikkerink family.

    ‘Uncle Jan’ narrowly survived the war. On 15 October 1944, he and two people in hiding were arrested by the Germans at his own home and imprisoned in the marechaussee (military police) barracks on the Ringweg. That same afternoon, he was liberated by resistance ‘action squads’ (knokploegen) and went into hiding on a farm in Vragender. Two days later, the occupiers took out their anger on the ‘terrorist’s’ home. They threw hand grenades inside, which set the house on fire. However, the local fire brigade managed to limit the damage.

    LO identity card of Hendrik Jan Wikkerink ('Uncle Jan')
    LO identity card of Hendrik Jan Wikkerink

    Awards and Recognition

    Bust of Hendrik Jan Wikkerink in the Nationaal Onderduikmuseum in Aalten
    Bust of Hendrik Jan Wikkerink in the Nationaal Onderduikmuseum in Aalten

    Because of his respectful demeanour and deep-rooted values, he remained an undisputed leading figure even after the war. Following the liberation, Queen Wilhelmina visited the Wikkerink couple to personally thank them for their brave courage and loyalty. He was knighted in the Netherlands and also received medals of honour from both French President De Gaulle and American President Eisenhower. In 1978, Hendrik Jan Wikkerink and his wife, Dela Gesina, were recognised by Yad Vashem as ‘Righteous Among the Nations’. It is fitting that his bust stands in the hall of the Nationaal Onderduikmuseum in Aalten.

    ‘Uncle Jan’ Wikkerink is buried at Berkenhove Cemetery.

    Sources

  • Fallschirm-Armee Waffenschule

    Fallschirm-Armee Waffenschule

    Herenstraat 4, Aalten (Oct 1944 – Feb 1945)

    Public Primary School, Herenstraat, Aalten
    Public Primary School, Herenstraat

    Tijdens de bezettingsjaren was er korte tijd een ‘Fallschirm-Armee Waffenschule’ gevestigd in de Openbare Lagere School aan de Herenstraat in Aalten.

    After the Normandy landings, Hitler wanted to launch a large-scale counterattack on the Western Front as soon as possible. With this he wanted to bring the Allies to a standstill. This should give Germany time to complete their “secret project,” which is the development of weapons of mass destruction.

    The Germans made preparations in a very tactical manner and the necessary combat units were assembled. This is also the case in Aalten. Here, Freiherr Von der Heydte had to put together a Kampfgruppe in preparation for a special deployment in this new offensive. In these months, Aalten was overrun by German troops. They requisitioned almost all school buildings for the quartering of these troops.

    School for paratroopers

    The so-called ‘Fallschirm-Armee Waffenschule’ (October 1944 – February 1945) was established in the public school on the Herenstraat. The majority of the Germans were also billeted here. Non-commissioned officers and officers were billeted with civilians in Aalten.

    The school was intended to train aspiring officers of the German paratroopers in practice and prepare them for work at the front. In addition, experienced instructors gave courses on how to disable the enemy’s armored vehicles with the resources and weapons that the Germans had at the time. And finally, a special Kampfgruppe (combat unit) was formed. He was going to receive a special assignment, namely an in-force parachute jump behind Allied lines during the Ardennes Offensive. At its peak, about 1200 German paratroopers were gathered in Aalten. They formed the so-called ‘Kampfgruppe Von der Heydte’.

    German paratroopers were billeted everywhere in Aalten and surrounding villages. Not only in large school buildings but also privately in people’s homes. The soldiers had to go to the district office that was located in the town hall. Here they received a certificate of quartering, as they called it at the time, and continued their way to the address where they were allowed to stay. In addition, almost all cafes in Aalten were used by the German troops and converted into so-called kasinos. Not to watch films here, but to entertain the soldiers in their spare time with fun and trinkets.

    Strict regime

    There was a strict regime among the German troops. Valuable time was efficiently used to turn this mixed group into a real Kampfgruppe as soon as possible. Every morning the troops were expected to complete a march of about 10 km on an empty stomach. Furthermore, shooting exercises were held on some training grounds around Aalten and the battle groups were trained in fighting in wooded areas.

    Een ooggetuige heeft Duitse parachutisten in sporttenue gezien, op weg naar zwembad ‘t Walfort. Hier sprongen de parachutisten van een verhoging in het mulle zand. Bij het in contact komen met het zand maakten zij een zogenaamde para-rol om de val te breken. Ze moesten deze manoeuvre beheersen voordat ze een parachutesprong gingen maken om zo blessures te voorkomen.

    After Von der Heydte had left the so-called Kampfgruppe, Hauptmann Von Hütz took over command of the Waffenschule in Aalten. During the remaining period, this new battle group deployed a number of operations. These were described as very harsh by both the Allies and the Germans themselves.

    Sources

    Freiherr Von der Heydte
    Friedrich August Freiherr von der Heydte
  • The Rye Bread Train

    The Rye Bread Train

    During the Second World War, food became increasingly scarce. Although the severity of the situation differed per region, people everywhere had to deal with ration cards and family cards. These were wanted, but at the same time objects of irony. In a clandestine paper, which was distributed in Aalten, there was a curious recipe:

    “Take the meat card, roll it in the flour card, put it in the fat card and fry it with the coal card until deliciously brown. The potato card is placed in the butter card and slowly braised in the petroleum card. Then you heat up the coffee card, add the milk card and the sugar card and dip the bread card into it. Take two bread coupons, put one meat coupon in between and you have a sandwich. After dinner, one wipes one’s mouth with the pedigree. Enjoy your meal.”

    Food shipments to the west

    Aalten station, train, Second World War
    A train at Aalten station during the Second World War (photo for illustration, this is not necessarily the Rye Bread Train)

    Ondanks de oorlogsomstandigheden hadden de Achterhoekers het over het algemeen niet slecht. Zelfs met 2500 onderduikers op een bevolking van 11.000 inwoners, kon men in Aalten redelijk goed eten. Er was zelfs genoeg voedsel beschikbaar om grote hoeveelheden naar het hongerende westen te sturen.

    De Aaltense bakkers stonden elke dag urenlang voor de oven. Massa’s roggebrood en andere levensmiddelen gingen dagelijks met de trein van ‘s middags half vijf naar het westen. Niet alleen in Aalten, maar ook op andere haltes op de lijn Winterswijk-Arnhem werd voedsel meegegeven voor de hongerige bevolking in het westen van Nederland.

    De eerste zendingen van roggebrood naar het westen begonnen in 1942. In 1944 reed er in Aalten dagelijks een paard-en-wagen met zestig à zeventig zakken roggebrood van het postkantoor naar het station. De trein van half vijf werd al snel bekend als de ‘Roggebroodtrein‘ en groeide uit tot een begrip. In het eerste jaarverslag van de P.T.T., dat na de oorlog verscheen, werd zelfs een foto opgenomen van het inladen van de vele roggebroden.

    In September 1944, the Roggebrood train came to an end due to the national railway strike.

    The Rye Bread Train would run one more time

    On the occasion of the 25th anniversary of the liberation, the Orange Committee and the local branch of the 1940-1945 Foundation organized liberation celebrations in Aalten from 4 to 6 May 1970. One of the highlights of these festivities would be a reunion of people in hiding and veterans. The intention was that the people in hiding would stay at their old hiding place as much as possible. On Liberation Day, 5 May, a memorial meeting with the pastors and the chaplain from the war years, and an allegorical parade were on the program. The NCRV paid attention to this Aalten initiative on Nederland 2.

    The NS would use a special train for the transport of the reunionists: the old Rye Bread Train. With the same equipment with which rye breads were transported during the war, the veterans and people in hiding would return to Aalten to celebrate the 25th anniversary of the liberation. This time, however, the Rye Bread Train would run in the opposite direction, from the west to the east, to bring the reunionists to Aalten. For this special occasion, a special train ticket would even be designed.

    Unfortunately, shortly before the commemoration celebrations, the organization decided to cancel the reunion, the most important part of the program. The reason for this was that there seemed to be insufficient interest among the people in hiding. Afterwards, however, there were signs that something might have gone wrong with the sending of the invitations. Anyway, the Rye Bread Train definitely remained a memory of the past

    Sources

    • Zutphensch Dagblad, 7 July 1949 (via Delpher)
    • Nieuwe Winterswijksche Courant, 5 December 1969 (via Delpher)
    • Dagblad Tubantia, 15 January 1970 (via Delpher)
    • Trouw, 14 March 1970 (via Delpher)
  • Monument to Leslie Pulfrey

    Monument to Leslie Pulfrey

    Gandvoortweg, Barlo

    Leslie Pulfrey Memorial, Gandvoortweg Barlo

    On the Gandvoortweg in the rural district of Barlo in Aalten, there is a modest memorial, erected in memory of the British Flying Officer Leslie Pulfrey of the Royal Air Force (RAF). The memorial marks the meadow where Pulfrey was found dead in the early morning of June 17, 1944, after a failed jump from his burning Lancaster bomber.

    The mission

    On the evening of 16 June 1944, the four-engined Avro Lancaster bomber ME840, with Pulfrey as a crew member, took off from North Killingholme airfield in Lincolnshire, England. The mission was an attack on factories in Sterkrade, Germany, where, among other things, synthetic oil was produced for the German war industry.

    The plane, with seven crew members on board, completed its bombing raid and returned to England. On the way back, however, it was intercepted and attacked by the German night fighter pilot Joseph Nabrich. One of the fuel tanks in the wing caught fire almost immediately, leaving the aircraft irretrievably lost.

    The fatal leap

    On the pilot’s orders, the crew was ordered to abandon the aircraft. Leslie Pulfrey was the first to jump into the airspace above Barlo. But something went terribly wrong. Although the exact cause remains unclear, he was found dead in a meadow in the early morning of 17 June 1944 by farmer Johan van Eerden of the nearby farm Nieuw Kolstee (Smol).

    It is possible that Leslie came into contact with the plane during his jump or that his parachute did not open properly. From a distance, the place where he had landed was clearly visible; His body was still connected to his parachute, which was bulged by the wind. There was a large tear in the parachute and his head had become entangled in the cords. Leslie also missed one of his aviator boots, which he apparently lost after his jump. His name was mentioned on his identification plate.

    The crash

    The burning Lancaster eventually crashed in a meadow behind the ‘Oude Lieftinck’ farm on the Heelweg (now Twenteroute 5). All but one of the crew were killed. Flight engineer Roy Kay was thrown out of the plane by an explosion just before the crash. Miraculously, he was the only survivor to reach the ground in one piece. He escaped arrest and finally managed to return to England on 22 September 1944, with the help of pilot helpers.

    Leslie Pulfrey and his killed colleagues were transferred to Varsseveld, where they were buried.

    Tribute

    In June 2014, Leslie Pulfrey was honored with a ceremony, during which a so-called Fly-past took place. Four F-16s flew over the vicinity of the Gandvoortweg, and one of the aircraft took off straight up on the spot as a tribute. Thea Onnink has recorded her memories of this moment in this story, read by Herman Onnink.

    Sources

    Leslie Pulfrey
    Photo: Joe Pinguey
  • The church raid in Aalten

    The church raid in Aalten

    January 30th, 1944

    Raid on the churches, 30 January 1944, Aalten
    Photo: J.H. Bennink (Aalten, 1916-1999), © Collection National Hiding Museum

    On Sunday, January 30, 1944, 48 young men were arrested during a raid by the German occupiers on two churches in Aalten. The men were taken away and five of them would not return alive. The event made a deep impression, both at home and abroad.

    The occupiers knew that many young men between the ages of 19 and 23 avoided the compulsory Arbeitseinsatz or had not returned after leave. They also knew that the churches in Aalten were full of churchgoers on Sundays. The Germans seized this moment to make their move.

    Die zondag omsingelden Duitse SS’ers de Christelijk Gereformeerde Kerk aan de Berkenhovestraat en de Gereformeerde Westerkerk aan de Hogestraat. De mannelijke kerkgangers werden gedwongen hun persoonsbewijs te tonen. Jongemannen in de leeftijd van 19 tot en met 23 jaar werden aangehouden en afgevoerd naar de koepelgevangenis in Arnhem. Ook enkele oudere mannen werden opgepakt.

    From Arnhem, the 48 arrested men were sent on to Camp Amersfoort or the Oranjehotel in Scheveningen. Some were put to work on farms in Germany or in factories in the Ruhr area. Others ended up in German concentration camps.

    Escapes

    During the war, Aalten offered shelter to 500 evacuees from Scheveningen, many of whom wore traditional costumes. Some men managed to avoid arrest by disguising themselves with a white Scheveningen hood or by hiding under a wide cloak.

    In the Westerkerk, Mrs. Visser-Taal, an evacuee from Scheveningen, helped the 19-year-old Gerrit Hoopman, who had not reported for the Arbeitseinsatz, to a disguise. She gave him her overskirt, shoulder scarf and traditional hood with head iron. Disguised as a woman, Gerrit, arm in arm with other women, left the church and managed to escape.

    There was also a young man who was hidden under the floor by churchgoers, on top of the heating pipes, where he stayed until the coast was clear.

    Reformed Church

    The plan of the Germans was to raid the Oosterkerk and the Westerkerk. When someone was asked the way to the Oosterkerk, this person got a frightening suspicion of what the occupier was planning. The Germans were misled and sent to the smaller Christian Reformed church on Berkenhovestraat. Jaap Papiermole (11 years old at the time) witnessed the robbery on the street. He says:

    “On the morning of January 30, 1944, I was just coming out of a house of an acquaintance on Berkenhovestraat, when a German raid car drove up, which stopped in front of the Christian Reformed Church. The street was closed off and the Germans surrounded the church building. I have seen that they arrested men, but I don’t think the loot was that big. Mr. Bennink took pictures of what happened. The robbery car with the arrestees then drove towards the Ring Road. At that moment the air raid siren went off and I ran home, because my father was strict and had instilled in us to come home immediately in case of an air raid siren.

    When I walked out of the Oosterkerkstraat, the same robbery car drove from the Damstraat towards the village. At the same time, my father came running and stopped the car. My father wore a kind of uniform jacket that belonged to the Air Protection Service. The car door opened and with a commanding voice that brooked no contradiction, father roared: ‘Ausweise sofort!’ The Germans were impressed by his harsh voice and handed over the pile of identity cards. Father walked through it, picked one out and said: ‘Dieser Mann suche ich. Er arbeitet bei mir.’ *

    He walked to the back of the car and gave the order to let the person in question get out immediately. The bewildered young man got out of the car and walked with father to our house. The truck drove on to the Bredevoortsestraat. When father was in the backyard with that young guy, he said: ‘Here you have your identity card back. Get out of here.’”

    * Jaap’s father H.J. Papiermole was an authorised representative at the firm of Driessen

    The impact of the raid

    The raid in Aalten made a big impression, both in his own country and abroad. It was the first time that such an action took place during a church service in the Netherlands. The London News wrote on February 14, 1944:

    “AALTEN – When leaving the church, a raid was held. 50 people in hiding walked in! So going to church is no longer safe either. People stay at home, although that will be difficult for many.”

    From that moment on, people in hiding no longer went to church. From then on, church services were held in secret on remote farms, with someone always on the lookout.

    Five of the arrested men did not survive. Four died of the hardships in a German concentration camp or during a death march, the fifth in a bombing. The men who did survive bore the consequences of this for the rest of their lives. The raid left deep scars in Aalten and remains a tragic and unforgettable chapter in local history.

    Documentary

    Also watch the documentary made by Omroep Gelderland “Saved by the iron“, about the special escape of Gerrit Hoopman:

    Sources

    Reformed Church, Aalten
    Reformed Church, Berkenhovestraat
    Westerkerk, Hogestraat, Aalten
    Reformed Westerkerk, Hogestraat

    Also read:

    The Aalten church raid never passed: ‘Dad is different from other fathers’

  • Where are Frits and Amalia Landau?

    Where are Frits and Amalia Landau?

    During World War II, the Jewish couple Frits and Amalia Landau lived in Aalten. Their lives ended tragically when they were executed by the resistance due to Frits’ dangerous behaviour. Their bodies were presumably buried in the countryside surrounding Aalten, but the exact location remains unknown to this day.

    Frits Landau was born on 28 November 1905 in Aalten. He became a travelling salesman and remained unmarried for a long time. On 6 June 1942, he became engaged to Amalia Lorch, known as Maly, born on 20 December 1902 in Bocholt. They married in August of that same year and moved in with the Schaap family at ‘t Dal 1 in Aalten.

    Soon, they were forced into hiding. From 1 April 1943, Gelderland was officially to be Juden-frei, Juden-rein (free of Jews). The Aalten population register states that Frits & Amalia departed on 17 March 1943, with no destination recorded. They subsequently stayed at two different hiding addresses, most recently with the Van Eerden family at the farm De Maote in the rural district of Dale.

    Unpredictable and dangerous behaviour

    It is said that Frits Landau was an alcoholic with a short temper, which led to unpredictable and dangerous behaviour. Reportedly, he did not make things easy for his hosts; he harassed young ladies and demanded his drinks every evening. He was accustomed to a luxurious lifestyle, yet in 1943, alcohol was barely available on the farms.

    On several occasions, Frits threatened to betray his hiding places in order to buy his own freedom from the Nazis—at least, he assumed this would succeed. Twice, such attempts were thwarted at the very last minute.

    Amalia and Frits Landau-Lorch (photo: Aalten Vooruit)
    Amalia and Frits Landau-Lorch (photo: Aalten Vooruit)
    Engagement Landau-Lorch – Het Joodsche Weekblad, 5 June 1942
    Het Joodsche Weekblad, 5 June 1942

    Liquidation by the resistance

    Because he was considered a safety risk to other people in hiding by the local resistance, the decision was made to execute him to protect other fugitives and their helpers.
    The Council of Resistance and even local clergy discussed how to deal with him. Ome Jan Wikkerink proposed keeping Frits under permanent guard by other hiders and pilots. This did not happen, however, as several young resistance members took the initiative to eliminate him themselves.

    They told the Landau couple that they would be taken to another hiding address in Vragender—a suitable excuse to get Amalia to come along with Frits. Incidentally, the intention was to separate Frits and Maly, as they wanted to spare her this fate. However, Frits refused to cooperate with being separated, and thus Maly was drawn into his fate.

    Frits and Amalia Landau-Lorch were liquidated and buried in the countryside of Aalten by the local resistance in late 1943 or early 1944.

    Location unknown

    Frits & Amalia Landau – Aaltensche Courant, 28 August 1945
    Aaltensche Courant, 28 August 1945

    Opinions differ regarding the exact place and date of the liquidation. According to one theory, Frits and Amalia were killed on the Schaarsheide, close to the Nazarethdijk. Another theory points to the Daalse Goor.

    The burial site of the Landau couple has been searched for several times, with the aim of giving them a reburial in the Jewish cemetery, but so far without result.

    During a search on the Schaarsheide, a lady’s shoe and three rusted shovels were found. Investigation indicated that the shoe likely dates from the 1930s. It is plausible that the first burial site was discovered there. According to those involved, the bodies were later reburied. At the time, everything had to be done quickly, and apparently, it was later decided that the original burial site was unsuitable. During the clearing of the first grave, the lady’s shoe was supposedly left behind. Afterward, the mortal remains were reburied elsewhere, but where is unknown.

    The most recent search took place in 2023. In a small patch of forest between Aalten and Lichtenvoorde, twelve experienced amateurs searched for the bodies of Frits and Amalia. Using detectors, they searched at various frequencies for different materials, but no human remains were found.

    On 13 April 2016, two Stolpersteine (stumbling stones) for Frits and Amalia Landau-Lorch were laid at their last official residential address at ‘t Dal.

    Stolpersteine at ’t Dal 1, Aalten

    Sources

  • Freya Radar Station

    Freya Radar Station

    During World War II, the Germans constructed a Freya-type radar station on the outskirts of the village of Aalten. The location was situated north of the Ringweg, approximately halfway between the Tolhuis (tollhouse) and the water tower. This radar site was part of an extensive air defence system operated by the Luftwaffe.

    The radar system, named after the Germanic goddess Freya, had been developed by the Germans in the late 1930s. It was capable of detecting enemy aircraft at a distance of approximately 150 kilometres.

    The radar installation was situated on a site with a circumference of about 800 metres, surrounded by a system of trenches and barbed-wire fencing. Additionally, anti-aircraft artillery was present on the site.

    Freya Radarstation, Ringweg, Aalten (1945)
    Location Freya Radarstation, Aalten (1945)

    There was a large radar unit, consisting of a red brick base, approximately seven by seven metres and three metres high. Mounted on top was the antenna, a metal framework measuring six by six metres. The large, square antenna screen could be rotated manually to the desired direction.

    There was also a smaller radar unit, which lacked a brick base. Furthermore, there were approximately ten wooden barracks on the site, measuring four by six metres and painted green, used to house the personnel.

    The immediate surroundings of the radar site were declared a Sperrgebiet (restricted area). The Ringweg was closed to pedestrians from the Tolhuis to the water tower. Signs marked “Militäre Werke” were placed in these areas. Cars and cyclists were permitted to drive through, but stopping or dismounting was strictly forbidden.

    The Freya radar site in Aalten was constructed at the end of the summer of 1942. The site was abandoned in the autumn of 1944. Traces of the radar site, such as the concrete and brick housing for the antenna screen, remained visible until the early 1950s.

    Features

    Cadastral no.L-583
    FunctionRadarstation
    Year of construction1942
    Demolition1950s
    Remnants of the Freya Radar installation in Aalten
    Remnants of the Freya Radar installation in Aalten,
    with the water tower in the background

    Sources

    • Britse littekens in Aaltense bodem, feiten en achtergronden over de bevrijding op 30 maart 1945, Wim Rhebergen
    • Cadastral map
    • Oorlogsbronnen
  • Never seen a traffic light!

    Never seen a traffic light!

    In 1941, a young lady from Aalten had to answer to the cantonal court in Apeldoorn for ignoring a red traffic light… Huh, a what…?

    “The next defendant to appear before the bar proved to be a true ‘Unschuld vom Lande’ (an innocent from the countryside). It was a young lady, G.H.H., of no occupation, from Aalten, who had been staying with her aunt in Apeldoorn for about ten days. And then it happened: she had cycled down the Hoofdstraat and had not given a thought to stopping for the red traffic light. After all, such automatic traffic controllers are unknown in rural Aalten!

    Still, it seemed somewhat unbelievable that, in the year 1941, a young girl would never have seen a traffic light, and so it was asked from behind the green table whether the defendant had truly never been to a city. “Yes, in Winterswijk,” the girl said, “but they don’t have them there either.” It turned out she had never made any further journeys, not even to Arnhem or Bocholt. In view of this, she got away with a fine of f 3.”

    Traffic light Hoofdstraat Apeldoorn
    Hoofdstraat, Apeldoorn, with a traffic light in the bottom left.

    Source

    • Nieuwe Apeldoornsche Courant, 6 November 1941 (Delpher)
  • ‘Rotterdammertjes’ in Aalten

    ‘Rotterdammertjes’ in Aalten

    During World War II, host families in Aalten provided shelter to approximately 800 children from heavily bombed Rotterdam. The initiative was spearheaded by Rev. Th. Delleman, a minister in Kralingen who had recently served in Aalten. Thanks to his dedication and the networks of both church communities, Rotterdam children were able to find temporary respite in the Achterhoek – far removed from the violence of war.

    Rotterdam after the German bombardment of 14 May 1940
    Rotterdam after the German bombardment of 14 May 1940

    In May 1940, Rotterdam was struck by a devastating German bombardment. Almost the entire historical city centre was destroyed. In the Kralingen district, Reverend Thomas Delleman witnessed the consequences first-hand. He saw how, above all, the children were scarred by fear and grief.

    Rev. Th. Delleman (1898–1977)
    Rev. Th. (Thomas) Delleman (1898–1977)

    Amidst this chaos, Delleman decided to take action. He knew the Achterhoek well: from 1930 to 1938, he had been a minister in Aalten, where he had experienced the hospitality of the local people. He believed that a temporary stay in the peaceful surroundings of Aalten would benefit the children – a place where silence and care could help them forget the war for a moment.

    A committee was soon formed with the support of deacons and congregation members from both Rotterdam and Aalten. In July 1940, the first groups of children departed for the Achterhoek, where they were placed with host families.

    Over the course of the war, an estimated 800 children from Rotterdam were cared for in Aalten and the surrounding area. Upon their departure for home, they often took gifts with them: eggs, bacon, rye bread, and sometimes even live animals. Later, the visits were supported by local diaconates. The last group of children travelled back to Rotterdam in February 1945. However, the connection remained: many children continued to return to their Achterhoek host families annually long after the war had ended.

    A Wartime Letter

    One of the children who came to Aalten thanks to Rev. Delleman was Anneke Hijmans. She stayed with the Aalbers family at ‘t Slat farm in IJzerlo. After her stay, she cycled back to Rotterdam in a single week. Shortly thereafter, on 26 January 1945, she wrote a letter to her host family — a personal document filled with memory and gratitude.

    Letter from Anneke Hijmans to the Aalbers family in IJzerlo:

    Letter from Anneke Hijmans to the Aalbers family in IJzerlo, 26 January 1945
    Letter from Anneke Hijmans to the Aalbers family in IJzerlo (image courtesy of Bea ter Maat-Aalbers)

    Commemorative Window as Thanks

    After the war, a committee was formed in the Reformed Church of Kralingen to present a commemorative window to the citizenry of Aalten on behalf of the collective churches and the Jewish community. It was a lasting gift in gratitude for the hospitality offered during the war years.

    The window, designed by artist Marius Richters, depicts among other scenes how Aalten farmers and families welcomed children from Rotterdam. It was installed in the Oosterkerk in Aalten and officially unveiled on 13 July 1946 by Rev. Delleman himself.

    Commemorative Window in the Oosterkerk, Aalten
    Commemorative Window in the Oosterkerk, Aalten

    Newspaper reports

    ‘Rotterdammertjes’ in Aalten

    “Thanks to the benevolent hospitality of the Aalten Community, we were enabled to send approximately 100 children, largely from afflicted Rotterdam, to Aalten,” stated Mr B. Hoving in the Rotterdamsche Kerkbode. These children are now enjoying the peaceful rest and excellent care that Aalten offers them, far away from their devastated city.

    Rotterdamsch Nieuwsblad, 17 August 1940

    The ‘Rotterdammertjes’ Depart

    Six weeks ago, we published a photograph of the arrival of the first ‘Rotterdammertjes’. This morning, the departure took place. At ‘Elim‘, the Reformed children bid their farewells. Each child was presented with a lovely souvenir of this holiday: a fountain pen and pencil in a case, kindly provided by Mr F. Buesink, ‘Febea’.

    It was a scene of cheerful bustle. The children appeared in ‘full regalia’—which, in this context, meant with an average of three times as much luggage as they had arrived with. Naturally, there were all sorts of boxes, parcels, and bags filled with apples and pears (how fortunate that they are all ripe just now), as well as bouquets of various flowers, which, together with bunches of heather, are intended to provide a hearty welcome home. One child was so fortunate as to have stayed with a friendly baker, with the result that the little one was sent home with a currant loaf almost as large as the ‘Rotterdammertje’ itself!

    There was an unprecedented crowd at the station; it was estimated that over 500 people were present. Rev. Th. Delleman spoke a brief word of thanks on behalf of all groups. He had not dared to hope that Aalten would have been so hospitable. “Rotterdam has been impoverished in many things, but your love has made us rich. Never shall Rotterdam forget the benevolence shown to her children.”

    De Graafschapper, 30 August 1940

    ‘Rotterdammertjes’ return after a four-week holiday in Aalten

    Loud cheering erupted from the special train that brought 128 children from afflicted Rotterdam families back to the ‘Maas City’ on Friday afternoon around four o’clock. The waving and shouting children would have liked nothing more than to jump straight out of the train windows to greet their mothers, brothers, and sisters, and to tell them all about their time in the Gelderland Achterhoek, in the friendly village of Aalten.

    No sooner had they spotted one another than the children began to show what they had received from their foster parents. Almost all of them carried a box of flowers and gifts; one had received a rabbit, another a chicken, and one ‘Rotterdammertje’ had even been treated to a currant loaf… a metre long! Furthermore, everyone had received a fountain pen and a propelling pencil as a memento of their stay in Aalten.

    The citizenry of Aalten has certainly spoilt the ‘Rotterdammertjes’. People had spontaneously approached the Diaconate of the Dutch Reformed Church with the request to send children from affected families, to provide them with a carefree month-long holiday. During this long holiday, thanks to the minister, Rev. Klijn, and the headteacher, Mr Hopman, the children visited numerous beautiful spots in the Achterhoek, while film afternoons also provided the necessary variety.

    It goes without saying that the children thoroughly enjoyed themselves in Aalten. The acquaintance seems to have been mutually appreciated, as many Aalten foster parents invited the children to spend their holiday with them again next year upon their departure.

    Rotterdamsch Nieuwsblad, 31 August 1940

    Sources

    • Rotterdamsch Nieuwsblad, 17 August 1940 (Delpher)
    • De Graafschapper, 30 August 1940 (Delpher)
    • Rotterdamsch Nieuwsblad, 31 August 1940 (Delpher)
  • Netherlands Association for Air Raid Protection

    Netherlands Association for Air Raid Protection

    De Graafschapbode, 29 January 1940

    Netherlands Association for Air Raid Protection

    In the local Sociëteit (Social Club) last Saturday afternoon, an exhibition was opened by the Netherlands Association for Air Raid Protection (Nederl. Vereen. voor Luchtbescherming), to which the municipal executive, military officers, heads of various departments, and the boards of several associations had been invited.

    The chairman of the Aalten branch, Mr Klaassen, extended a warm welcome to those present and expressed his sincere gratitude to the Mayor and Aldermen, the head of the Air Raid Protection Service, the board of the Sociëteit, and others for their cooperation in making this exhibition a success. The speaker announced that the Mayor was prevented from opening the exhibition due to a minor indisposition, and that Alderman Te Gussinklo had kindly agreed to deliver the opening address.

    Mr Te Gussinklo began by apologising for the fact that he actually knew very little about air raid protection. He regretted that no better term had been found in the Netherlands, for “we do not protect the air, but rather protect the people from the dangers that come from the sky during a war via aircraft with their destructive bombs that bring death and ruin.” He questioned whether the population of Aalten, and of the Netherlands, was sufficiently aware of its duty in this regard. The answer, he stated, must be: no, the majority certainly are not. Therefore, it is very useful and very necessary that the Aalten branch has organised this exhibition.

    It is often said that the army must be brought to the people, but the speaker also wished to posit that air raid protection must be brought to the people. It is highly necessary that the Dutch public knows more about this. For this reason, the Aalten municipal executive has strongly applauded this visual instruction. The speaker expressed his hope that this free exhibition would attract many visitors. Now that the war has continued for some time, interest has somewhat waned and might otherwise slumber further. However, when we consider that between 1,000 and 2,000 bombs are being dropped daily on a country in Northern Europe, we must wholeheartedly agree that this information is not unnecessary. To be forewarned is to be forearmed.

    The speaker congratulated the board on the magnificent way this exhibition was arranged and therewith declared the exhibition open. After tea was served, a tour was conducted under the guidance of one of the gentlemen from the board of the Netherlands Association for Air Raid Protection.

    Gas mask, Aalten – De Graafschapper, 28 March 1941
    De Graafschapper, 28 March 1941

    Everything was clearly explained, and the numerous visual representations—both in pictures and in reality—of air hazards, their effects, and the measures taken against them, will certainly clarify much for all visitors that might not have been fully understood simply by reading booklets. Posters show us the varying population densities of different countries, the effects of high-explosive, incendiary, and gas bombs, the measures taken by the authorities and those that can be taken by citizens, etc. etc.

    We see various gas masks, lanterns, a model of a cluttered attic compared to an attic as it ought to be, a model air-raid shelter, etc. etc. The clear explanations were listened to with great interest. It is to be hoped that this exhibition, which remains open until Tuesday and is entirely free to the public, will be well attended.

    Sources

  • Witchcraft

    Witchcraft

    In 1937, G.H. Rots described in a series of articles in the Aaltensche Courant how life used to be in Aalten in former times. Regarding the historical belief in witches, he wrote:

    “According to popular belief, witches held gatherings at night, and in the Aalter Esch there was a specific spot where these nocturnal assemblies took place. That piece of land, located approximately halfway between the Linde and the Lichtenvoordsche road, was called the ‘heksenbeddestêe’. It was a piece of no man’s land to which no one laid claim.”

    Anyone reading about what transpired in this field is stunned by the stories of witches and ghosts that circulated in earlier times. It reached such an extent that even educated people believed in witchcraft, and the authorities of those days intervened in this ‘evil,’ punishing those found guilty of sorcery.

    To determine whether an accused person was innocent or guilty, the so-called water trial was applied: the victim was thrown into the water. If they floated, they were deemed a witch; if they sank, then what? Then they were not a witch, but they usually drowned. It was believed that those who could perform witchcraft could transform themselves into animals. Illnesses among livestock or even among people were often attributed to witches. If the milk had a blue tint, or if a clump of hair was found in a calf’s or cow’s stomach, it was all blamed on the witches.

    Witch – Aaltensche Courant, 18 March 1938
    Illustration: Piet te Lintum

    There were even people who believed themselves capable of witchcraft, claiming they had regular audiences with the devil. Witches were said to ride through the air on broomsticks and gather at the ‘beddestae’ in the Aaltenschen Esch to celebrate their nightly festivals. It should be said to the credit of the spiritual leaders of those days that they, at least, did not believe in it and repeatedly pointed out the absurdity of witchcraft to the population.

    However, what is once deeply rooted is not easily dislodged, and so it took years, even centuries, before the superstition vanished. The authorities, primarily at the urging of the clergy, engaged in the suppression of witchcraft. They employed methods that were terrifying. If it was believed that someone could perform witchcraft or claimed to do so, the most severe measures were taken. Often the victims paid with their lives; even stakes were erected for burning.

    Shivers down the spine

    The old night watchmen could tell eerie stories of what they had experienced at night. The listener of these tales would feel ‘the shivers down their spine.’ For instance, it was told that ‘behind the hedges in the Heuksken,’ a woman dressed in white wandered every night. And then there was that mysterious light in the charnel house at the cemetery. Occasionally, mysterious animals were encountered that made the streets of Aalten unsafe. Furthermore, there were the ‘omens’ of fire. If a fire broke out in the village, one of the night watchmen had sometimes seen a ‘red glow’ above the site of the fire weeks in advance.

    Berent Sweenen

    Around 1600, a certain Berent Sweenen lived in Barlo. His neighbor, Geerdt Luiten, accused him of witchcraft. Luiten’s cows, pigs, and horses had regularly died of ‘unnatural sickness’ or sorcery. In the stomach of one of the cows he had cut open, ‘toads and snakes’ were found. Furthermore, Berent Sweenen’s sister ‘was also a witch.’ The whole place was hexed, and Luiten had already gone to Lichtenvoorde to complain. Berent Sweenen was summoned before the authorities and had to listen to all these accusations.

    Luiten brought forward a new accusation. It was no longer possible to churn butter in his house. The cause: a hex by Sweenen. Another neighbor, Bernt Tolkamp, recounted that he had drunk buttermilk at Sweenen’s and had become ‘dreadfully ill’ from it. Tolkamp’s daughter had also fallen ill, likewise hexed by Sweenen.

    More witnesses were called, namely Geerdt Winkelhorstink and Johan Merkerdink. They could only state that Sweenen had long been regarded as a sorcerer. Personally, however, they had not been troubled by him. A certain Herman Olthuys provided further incriminating testimony. Other neighbors recounted that they had hosted Berent Sweenen, who was a tailor, in their homes and that he had told them he could perform witchcraft. Eleven witnesses then took the oath and declared, invoking ‘God and His Holy Gospel,’ that what they had asserted was the truth.

    Berent Sweenen, the simple tailor, maintained his innocence, but he stood alone. Eventually, under the weight of all those accusations, he gave in and said that he had understood the art of witchcraft for some 18 to 20 years. His fate was sealed, and given the punishments of those days, his head likely fell under the executioner’s axe. One case among many.

    People pondered much. During the long winter evenings by primitive lighting, they saw all sorts of strange things. They heard wondrous tales, and when the old man sat in the corner by the hearth, he was asked to tell stories; then the tales of ghosts and witches would emerge, and at night in their sleep, people heard all kinds of sounds. The mystery of the unknown. That unknown, that mysteriousness, unsettled the people, and the case of Sweenen in Barlo is not unique.

    Fourteen years earlier, the Bailiff of Bredevoort had already written to the Lady of the Pledge that witchcraft in Aalten was taking on ever greater proportions. One can conclude from this that the governing officials—the intellectuals of those days—also believed that witches existed. The fight against the ‘evil’ was therefore not conducted by convincing people that ‘witches’ cannot exist, but by the extermination of the individuals who carried out the evil.”

    Aleida Voesters

    “We wish to share one more case to provide an accurate picture of the dismal conditions in those days. It concerns a woman named Aleida Voesters. She was accused of witchcraft and thrown into prison, but was released when she promised to reform and paid a monetary fine. However, once the population views someone in a negative light, their reputation is ruined.

    So it was for this woman. The population would not leave her in peace. The cup overflowed when a certain Wessel Wassink, a tailor by trade, claimed that he had fled from Mrs. Voesters’ house because he had heard devils quarreling there. The rumor reached the authorities again, and they deliberated on how to deal with this woman. The ‘executioner’ told the Bailiff that he knew a way to intervene with forceful measures. The woman was imprisoned again and transported to Bredevoort. She was thrown into the water and… she floated; she did not sink. Proof that she could perform witchcraft. They pushed her down with a long pole, but it seems that the excessive women’s clothing of those days prevented her from sinking.

    The woman was then tortured with extreme cruelty. She was to be made an example. She was tied to a ladder and flogged, but the woman maintained that she could not perform witchcraft. Two days later, she was stretched on the rack again. But she did not confess. They tied a rope to her hands and hung her from a beam. At that moment, the pitiable woman let out a sound as if three men’s voices had called out. Immediately thereafter, her neck was broken. Her body was burned on a stake, made of wood that the farmers were expressly required to supply for that purpose. Such were the witch trials.”

    Milk Witch

    In a legal document from the Court of Bredevoort dating from 1533, we find the following story: The couple Gert and Lise Stapelkamp have a church pew in the Saint Helen’s Church in Aalten, which they claim was originally purchased by Gert’s mother, Sine Stapelkamp. However, the couple Koep and Nale Heinen claim it is their pew. During the service, Nale called Lise a ‘molkentoversche‘ (a witch who hexes cows) three times, after which Lise struck back. A significant disturbance in the church!

    Sources

    • ‘From Aalten’s Past’, by G.H. Rots, Aaltensche Courant, 26 November 1937 (Delpher)
    • ‘From Aalten’s Past’, by G.H. Rots, Aaltensche Courant, 11 March 1938 (Delpher)
    • “Wortels in de Achterhoek’, by Henk Harmsen, 1996 [p.17]
  • Night Watch & Constables

    Night Watch & Constables

    In 1937, G.H. Rots described in a series of articles how things were done in Aalten in former times. Regarding the ‘night watch’ and the constables (veldwachters) in Aalten, he wrote the following:

    “When the population of Aalten had found rest in the arms of Morpheus, they were watched over at night. The night watchman made his rounds and, accompanied by his faithful dog and with a thick rattan cane in hand, patrolled Aalten’s streets. He also served as a ‘knocker-up’; that is, if certain people needed to be woken early, he was the man who ensured it happened.

    For many years, the night watchman carried a rattle, and every time the tower clock was heard, the rattle was spun and the night watchman called out the hour that had struck. For example, at twelve o’clock, he would cry: ‘The clock has twelve, twelve has the clock!’. It was eventually realised that such customs were not conducive to the residents’ night’s rest, and the practice was subsequently abolished.

    For monitoring purposes, check-clocks were mounted at several points in the village, designed so that the authorities could verify whether the night watchmen had performed their duty. In turbulent times, or whenever the authorities deemed it necessary, the night watchman was reinforced by a ‘watch’. Each rot (ward) had to provide one man to stand guard. The ‘watch’ was stationed in the building where Mr ter Maat’s barbershop is now located.

    The permanent night watchman thus had the assistance of these men, and they accompanied him on patrol. When it was pitch black, it sometimes happened that such a greenhorn assistant-watchman lost his way and ended up in a refuse heap or a manure pit. It is well known that this circuit through the village—the rattling aside—was not entirely silent, and one could hear the night watchman approaching from afar. For thieves and other ruffians, this was the signal to take to their heels or go into hiding.”

    Night watchman – Aaltensche Courant, 3 December 1937
    Illustration: Piet te Lintum

    Since 1 January 1915, the night watchman in Aalten has been a thing of the past. One of the last night watchmen in Aalten was Jan te Slaa, better known as the town crier ‘Jan met de Panne’.

    spine-chilling stories

    “The old night watchmen could tell spine-chilling stories of what they had experienced at night. Hearing these tales made one’s skin crawl. For instance, it was said that ‘behind the hedges in the Heuksken’, a woman dressed in white wandered every night. And then there was that mysterious light in the charnel house at the churchyard. Sometimes, mysterious animals were encountered that made Aalten’s streets unsafe.
    Then there were the ‘premonitions’ of fire. If a fire broke out in the village, one of the night watchmen had sometimes seen a ‘red glow’ above the site weeks in advance. This happened quite often, as Aalten had a certain ‘reputation’ when it came to fires. There were occasions when fires broke out three days in a row. The ‘red glow’ must have been seen quite frequently then.

    The belief in witches and ghosts had not entirely vanished in the last century, so these ghost stories were often believed. According to folk belief, witches held meetings at night, and in the Aalter Esch, there was a spot used as a nocturnal witch’s dwelling. That piece of land, situated roughly halfway between the Linde and the Lichtenvoordscheweg, was called the ‘heksenbeddestëe’ (witches’ bedstead). It was a patch of no man’s land that no one claimed. The night watchmen were not afraid of any of this, and through their heroic stance against these mysterious things, they commanded great respect from the population. Undeniably, quite apart from the above, the night watchman performed good service, and many viewed the abolition of the night watch with regret.”

    Constables

    “And then there was the police surveillance. Jan Steven Schaars Prins was well known as a State Constable (Rijks-Veldwachter). Merely mentioning his name was enough to strike fear into people. The youth would retreat into their shells at the sound of his name, and naughty rascals could be sent to bed with it. But Schaars Prins was also someone held in awe by adults. His mere appearance helped to restore order, and when he took action, order was immediately reinstated.

    A formidable man, then, who certainly faced his share of trouble. Often he set out alone to fine dangerous poachers, but he also showed his strength against more serious criminals. The arrest of two escaped German murderers in 1875 earned him an honourable distinction from the German government.

    On one occasion, he is said to have been overpowered by superior force; poachers in the Aalter Goor tied him to a tree, and he was only freed a few hours later by a passer-by.

    Jan Steven Schaars Prins (1817–1893)
    Jan Steven Schaars Prins (1817–1893)

    In the middle of the last century, Jan te Hoonte and Constable Beernink were known as the municipal police. They were appointed at a salary of 145 guilders a year. Not too many official reports (proces-verbalen) were drawn up, for if a case had to be heard at the court in Zutphen, they had to make the journey to Zutphen on foot as witnesses. Fining a poacher, however, was another matter, as it yielded an extra reward, which was quite welcome alongside the aforementioned salary.

    The constable went to the town hall in the morning to ask if there was ‘anything special’ to report. Sometimes it was a message for a local resident, but usually, the Mayor had nothing on the agenda, and the constable would go to tend his farm; if something significant happened, one could find the constable out in the fields.”

    Sources

    • ‘From Aalten’s past’, by G.H. Rots, Aaltensche Courant, 26 November 1937 (Delpher)
    • Het Vaderland, 7 March 1876 (Delpher)
  • Carnival / Shrovetide

    Carnival / Shrovetide

    In large parts of the country, Carnival is celebrated seven weeks before Easter. In Aalten, this is not so much the case. Carnival is traditionally a Catholic festival, and Aalten has remained predominantly Protestant since the Reformation. Nevertheless, Carnival was also celebrated in Aalten in the past.

    Carnival is originally a Christianized pagan folk festival traditionally celebrated only by Catholics. In parts of Gelderland, Carnival is celebrated exuberantly every year, while in many other parts it is not celebrated at all. These regional cultural differences often date back to the Reformation and the Eighty Years’ War (1568-1648). During this conflict, regions emerged that quickly aligned with the Protestant rebels. Other regions held on to the Catholic faith of the legitimate sovereign and Duke of Guelders for a long time.

    For instance, the Lordship of Bredevoort was conquered in 1597 by the Calvinist Maurice of Nassau. He subsequently made the entire region from Aalten to Winterswijk Protestant. His half-brother Frederick Henry did not definitively conquer Groenlo from the Catholic sovereign until 1627. In the preceding years, the Catholic faith was able to take deeper root in the society of Groenlo and its surroundings thanks to the Counter-Reformation.

    Carnival in Aalten

    Nevertheless, Carnival was also celebrated in Aalten in the past. In 1937, G.H. Rots described in a series of articles how things were done in Aalten in earlier times. For example, he dedicated a section to ‘vastenoavond’, or Carnival:

    “If we look at the cheerful things again, the first thing people in the village concerned themselves with was ‘vastenoavond’. However, compared to the Carnival festivities in southern parts of the country, it was very modest here. There was music in a few cafés, and a few people also appeared on the streets in jester costumes. Characteristic, however, was the custom of the youth walking around with a so-called ‘foekepot’. This was a tin canister over which a dried piece of pig’s bladder was stretched. In the middle was a small hole, into which a small wooden stick fitted. By pushing this stick up and down, a humming sound was produced, and so on Shrove Tuesday one could hear the dull sound of foeke-foeke-foeke. They sang the following song with it:

    Rummie-pottery, rummie-pottery, give me a penny and I’ll go by. I’ve no money to buy bread, I’ve walked so long with the rummie-pot. Rummie-pottery, rummie-pottery, give me a penny and I’ll go by.

    The penny was usually given, and the ‘Shrove Tuesday fools’ did good business.”

    Aalten even had three Carnival associations: De Slinge-raars, Spuit Elf, and De Olde Mölle.

    De Olde Mölle was founded in 1965 at café ‘t Noorden.

    Carnival society 'De Olde Mölle' (The Old Mill), Aalten
    Carnival society ‘De Olde Mölle’ (The Old Mill), Aalten – Carnival prince Jan, his adjutant and the Council of Eleven.

    Nowadays, Carnival in Aalten is only celebrated by the children of the St. Jozefschool, the only remaining Catholic primary school in the village. Other residents of Aalten who wish to celebrate Carnival are forced to go to places such as Groenlo (Grolle), ‘s-Heerenberg (Waskuupstad), or Doetinchem (Leutekum).

    Newspaper reports

    Carnival – De Maasbode, 5 February 1913
    De Maasbode, 5 February 1913
    Carnival Mater Amabilis School, Aalten – Dagblad Tubantia, 30 January 1961
    Carnival Mater Amabilis School, Aalten – Dagblad Tubantia, 30 January 1961
    Carnival Aalten – Dagblad Tubantia, 24 February 1965
    Dagblad Tubantia, 24 February 1965
    Carnival society 'De Olde Mölle' (The Old Mill), Aalten – Dagblad Tubantia, 9 April 1965
    Dagblad Tubantia, 9 April 1965
    Carnival Prince, Aalten – Dagblad Tubantia, 12 November 1965
    Dagblad Tubantia, 12 November 1965
    Carnival society 'De Olde Mölle' (The Old Mill), Aalten – Dagblad Tubantia, 18 February 1966
    Dagblad Tubantia, 18 February 1966
    Carnival Evening Aalten – Nieuwe Winterswijksche Courant, 21 February 1968
    Nieuwe Winterswijksche Courant, 21 February 1968
    Carnival Evening 'De Olde Mölle' (The Old Mill) Aalten, 1966
    1966
    Carnival Prince of the 'Slingeraars' Dick Ditzel, 1980
    1980

    Sources

  • Farm Life

    Farm Life

    In 1937, G.H. Rots described how life used to be in Aalten in a series of articles. Among other topics, he devoted a section to the traditional farming life of the past.

    “The rural districts of Aalten formed an inseparable whole with the village. The villagers needed the farmer, and conversely, the farmers of the rural districts sought contact with the villagers. The roads were far from good, and due to the narrow wheel rims, the sandy paths had much to endure. Water drainage was poorly regulated, and maintenance left much to be desired. And yet those roads had to be used at the cost of much horse and ox flesh. For most farmers formerly kept oxen, which were used as draft animals for the wagons and carts. Progress was made at a slow pace: if I do not arrive today, then tomorrow; slow but steady, for the ox was a strong draft animal. After serving as a draft animal for several years, it was led to the slaughterhouse.”

    Primitive

    “The entire farming operation was, of course, primitive; there was no chemical fertilizer, resulting in much lower soil yields. Group stables were unknown, and chicken coops did not exist ‘on the farm.’ The chickens spent the nights with the cows in the stable. Some poles had been installed there, and the entire flock of poultry would trot up the ‘chicken rack’ in the evening. And when the days were short, they hardly ever came down. Egg production occurred only in the summer, and even then not in great quantities. The cattle also did not look as flourishing as they do today. One had to feed what one’s own soil produced. Everything was ‘pro rata,’ in proportion, but much less and less productive than nowadays.”

    Butter factories did not exist; the milk was soured in cream pots and churned by hand. On some farms, that chore was performed by a dog. The churning dog had to walk in a large wheel, which set it in motion, and via an axle connection, it moved the churning mechanism. The kneaded butter was shaped into ‘welters,’ and then the housewife would take it to the market. In Aalten, the butter market was behind the Town Hall. However, this market did not enjoy a flourishing period, as the shopkeeper was also a willing buyer. With a closed purse, one could then buy groceries, and large suppliers received cash in addition. The eggs also brought in some money, but as mentioned, production was not that large.”

    De Graafschapbode, 21 July 1888
    Botermarkt (Buttermarket) – De Graafschapbode, 21 July 1888

    ‘Koojonges’

    “Many small farmers went to work for daily wages, and some also had a weaving room where a bit was earned. Everything, of course, had to be performed by manual labor; machines were unknown. Every farmer (who was not a day laborer) therefore had at least one head farmhand and a ‘cow boy.’ And those ‘cow boys’ usually came from the village.”

    It was the custom that boys from working-class families, before learning a trade or craft, first went to ‘the farmer’ for a few years. Working-class families in the village were usually quite blessed with children, and when a boy was 10 or 11 years old, he had to go to ‘the farmer’ for ‘room and board.’ It was then said: “then he will learn decency immediately.” In any case, the boys learned the first principles of the farming business, which served them well in later life.

    For full-fledged farmhands and maidservants, the wages were also not very high. Thirty or fifty guilders per year, but they would occasionally receive clothing as well. A few shirts, a few ‘brunten’ (a type of apron), wooden shoes, and some other necessities. That was the entire wage of the maidservant. In the spring they had a holiday, the so-called ‘spinning week.’ Then they would spend a week at home with their mother. The wages of the farmhands were slightly higher, but still very low by modern standards. And do not count on having much free time or short days. We already mentioned that the threshing flail had to be taken up as early as four o’clock in the morning.”

    Nutrition

    “For their own nutrition, more was enjoyed from the farm than is the case today. In the first place, everyone grew a quantity of buckwheat. Buckwheat flour was suitable for pancakes. And invariably, pancakes were baked every morning, usually with a ‘slice of bacon’ in them. The cooking oil was also a product of their own cultivation. The rapeseed was taken to the oil miller, and a few large jars of rapeseed oil and a number of rapeseed cakes were collected again a few weeks later. The cakes were excellent cattle feed, a treat for freshly calved cows.”

    The food was otherwise as simple as possible, yet nutritious. Home-baked bread, for many farmers had their own baking oven and baked their own bread. The only delicacy was ‘rice porridge with brown sugar,’ usually a meal for Sunday evenings or when visitors came. A large bowl full of ‘rice porridge’ was placed in the middle of the table. Every person sitting at the table received a spoon, and then the eating began. Decency required that one dip the spoon shallowly into the firm porridge, so as not to give the impression that one was after the tastiest top layer with brown sugar. If someone was nevertheless so bold, people would soon think: “He is also mowing the sods.” Eating eggs was done only on Easter Sunday. Then sometimes more were consumed than was good for the stomach.”

    Harvest

    In the past, all the crops were stored indoors on the hayloft.
    Illustration: Piet te Lintum

    “When the harvest was in and the potatoes were dug, there was reason for joy; then a domestic party was arranged and they had ‘stubble-end.’ This party was limited to the household members and workers who had assisted with the harvest. That the farming industry had to contend with economic difficulties is evident from the fact that many families sold their farms and sought a new existence in the New World in America. With a few exceptions, none have returned, and they have achieved greater prosperity in their new fatherland.”

    Land prices were low here, and especially wild land was not expensive. For a hundred guilders per hectare, one could already buy wild land, for there were plenty of forests and heathlands, and where there are now lush meadows and excellent farmland, there were formerly vast forests, heathlands, and wild land. The rural district of Haart in particular was very heavily forested.”

    When chemical fertilizer made its entry into the farming business, a turn for the better occurred. Wild lands were reclaimed, forests were cleared, water drainage was better regulated, and numerous workers found employment in the reclamation and cultivation of wild lands. The livestock population increased, the quality of the cattle improved, agricultural courses gave tips and instructions for effective fertilization, and one new farm after another was built. Old-fashioned stables were changed, and nowadays the building style of a farm is quite different from before.”

    The crops were formerly all stored indoors, ‘on the beams’ and ‘on the loft,’ while now ‘stack heaps’ can be seen everywhere, sheltering the harvest. Among the villagers, too, there was a change in economic and social relations, and agriculture was practiced less. Manure piles had to be cleared away, modern industry arrived, and gradually conditions became more modern.”

    Moving house

    “On the rare occasion that a farmer moved, this took place on ‘Saint Peter’s Day,’ February 22nd. All belongings were loaded onto the neighbors’ wagons, and the entire procession moved from the old house to the new or different farmstead. The neighbor women had already gone ahead to the new home, had cleaned it, and had lit the fire. In the local dialect, this was called ‘vuur beün’ (preparing the fire).”

    When the new residents arrived, the coffee was already brewed, and the newcomers could immediately refresh themselves with a nice cup of coffee. The neighbors helped that day; one dropped something here, another there; it was a colossal bustle. As a crowning touch, the ‘moving-in meal’ followed later, which again did not lack for spirited drinks.”

    Naoberschap, moving house
    Moving house

    Deaths

    Funeral
    Funeral

    “In the event of a death, the neighbors were immediately notified; the neighbor women laid out the corpse, which was so-called ‘verhaenekleed’ (shrouded). The nearest neighbors then acted as the primary representatives of the residents. The nearest neighbor woman took over the tasks of the housewife, and the neighbor man those of the master of the house. These customs were the same among the villagers, and even now in the rural districts, that old custom is maintained.”

    In the past, there was the so-called ‘funeral beer.’ After the funeral, the residents of the rural district went to one or another café in the village. There they rested from the tiring journey and beer was served. Generally, that beer was not of the very best quality in the past, and it was a sort of brown liquid that one was given to drink. In that café, they took leave of one another and everyone went their own way.”

    The funeral procession of the local residents consisted of the cart on which the corpse was transported. This was uncovered. Then followed a number of “canvas carts,” high carts with white hoods. If there was a death in the village, one of the neighbors had to go around the ‘rot’ (neighborhood group) in the morning to warn the people that they ‘had to come to load at eleven o’clock.’ It was usually quite busy there at eleven o’clock, for it was the custom that the ‘nearest neighbor’ went around with the ‘bottle.’ The corpse was carried from the house of the deceased to the cemetery by the neighbors, and again gin was involved, for the pallbearers were given a restorative beforehand.”

    Visit

    “In the month of May, there were many farm visits. Then friends, family, and acquaintances were invited, and the farmsteads swarmed with visitors. The lands were inspected, the livestock criticized; it was more like a small-scale exhibition. These visits were also always held whenever something had been built. The building material had been fetched by the “neighbors” from the brickworks or storage sites, and a party crowned it all. That neighborly help was something traditional and was also indispensable; people supported each other mutually. Together, they performed what one could not manage alone, and especially during family events, neighborly help was indispensable.”

    “During the long winter evenings, people often went on neighborhood visits, and the slaughter visits were also a real night out for the residents of the rural districts. The large sod fire (sods were light peats, the top layer of a peat layer) spread a pleasant warmth when one sat close to it, and then the master of the house sat with his chair tilted back before one side of the mantelpiece, and the neighbor before the other. The conversation then concerned the business, the cows, and the pigs. The visitors smoked for free, and when the pipe had to be lit, a glowing coal was taken from the fire with the tongs.”

    Drika Wijnveen-Stapelkamp and home slaughterer Bertus ter Maat
    The home butcher

    The depression in the hearth plate, where the actual heart of the fire was located, was called ‘rake’ or ‘vuurrake.’ The ‘blowpipe,’ the tongs, and the fire spoon were the tools that hung beside the fire. Above the fire, a large chimney breast was built out, which served as a smoke catcher. It was also the storage place for everything one wanted to keep dry, including the gunpowder and the powder horn, for every farmer had a gun, a muzzle-loader, which had to be loaded with powder. Poaching was in the farmer’s blood. He would occasionally outsmart a hare or a rabbit.”

    Saxon farmhouse
    Illustration: Piet te Lintum

    The architectural style of the old farms was the Saxon type. In very old houses, the living space for humans and animals was not separated. In most, there was a partition wall, sometimes of stone, sometimes of so-called ‘wand,’ a wickerwork of wood, plastered with loam on both sides. The box beds were mostly all installed in the kitchen, and one can imagine the situations that arose as a result.”

    When clothes had to be mended or made new, the tailor from the village came to the house to perform those tasks, and in the evening he would clatter back to the village with the pressing iron and the pressing board in his hands. When May arrived, the farmer could earn an extra income by peeling wood. Around the fields were wooded banks on which oak coppice was grown. When this wood had reached a thickness of approx. 5 cm, it was cut, and because it was ‘in sap’ in May, it was peeled, i.e., stripped of its bark. The wood was chopped to a length of about 1 meter, and then it was laid over another piece of wood and beaten until the bark or crust came loose. The bark was dried and taken to tanneries, where it was processed into tannin. The wood that remained was called ‘schelhout’ (peeled wood) and was a very popular fuel.”

    Another resource to increase income was the burning of charcoal. Some had acquired skill in this, and these charcoal burners had their customers everywhere. In the autumn, the farmers moved with the cattle to the fields. Entire fields were overgrown with spurrey, a crop sown after the rye. The cattle were put on the ‘tether’: a pole was driven into the ground, to which a wooden pole with an iron bracket was attached, and fastened to the cow chain or rope. The cattle could then graze a certain section, and each time the cattle had to be ‘tethered further.’”

    Market

    “When it was market day, people went to the market; if there was livestock to be sold, it was transported to the market, for cattle trading only happened at the market. The Aalten cattle market was therefore very well attended. People became informed about the prices of oxen and other cattle; they heard all sorts of news at the market, which in turn provided subject matter for conversation in the domestic circle.”

    The annual fairs were the major event in the life of the population. First there was the May market, in the autumn the Fair, and on December 6th the Saint Nicholas market. Then it was a bustle of great importance in the village. In the morning, the married couples went from home to the market. The cattle market was overcrowded, and in the inner market, there was no lack of stalls and sellers of all kinds of household items. Well-known figures were the quacks who sold herbs, which were said to cure most diseases. The tooth-pullers also usually had good business.”

    Veemarkt (Cattle Market) Aalten
    Veemarkt (Cattle Market) Aalten, around 1934

    At those annual fairs, there was dance music in most inns. The young people went to the market in the afternoon. The farm girls first strolled past the stalls, bought something to their liking, and finally grouped together. Then the boys appeared, and they tried to find each other to go out this evening. Some had already made appointments beforehand. These ‘had the sods dry already,’ for in the local dialect, if one had someone’s promise to celebrate the annual fair together, it was said: ‘then one had the sods dry.’ When it was nine o’clock in the evening, and there were still girls who received no proposal, then the chance for them was gone and they had to return home alone. Thus the first marriage bonds were often formed, and the first meeting at the annual fair was decisive for their entire lives.”

    Source

    • ‘From Aalten’s Past’, by G.H. Rots, Aaltensche Courant, 12 & 19 November 1937 (via Delpher: part III & part IV)
  • Gravediggers

    Gravediggers

    The task of the gravedigger was to dig graves for the dead. In rural areas, this duty was often outsourced to impoverished villagers or combined with other roles: sextons, night watchmen, or schoolmasters performed the gravedigging alongside their primary occupation. The office of gravedigger provided only a modest (supplementary) income.

    Some well-known gravediggers in Aalten and Bredevoort (incomplete list):

    Aalten

    * They resided in the ‘gravedigger’s cottage’ near the Old General Cemetery.

    Bredevoort

    'The Gravedigger', by Jan & Casper Luyken, 1694
    ‘The Gravedigger’, by Jan & Casper Luyken, 1694

    Newspaper reports

    Raben, gravedigger – Graafschapbode, 13 April 1889
    De Graafschapbode, 13 April 1889
    Gravedigger Prinsen still alive – Zutphensche Courant, 16 April 1889
    Zutphensche Courant, 16 April 1889
    Gravedigger Piek, Bredevoort – Zutphensche Courant, 25 January 1893
    Zutphensche Courant, 25 January 1893
    Prinsen, gravedigger – Graafschapbode, 17 November 1914
    De Graafschapbode, 17 November 1914
    Van Zuilekom, gravedigger – Nieuwe Aaltensche Courant, 12 November 1918
    Nieuwe Aaltensche Courant, 12 November 1918
    Gravedigger, Aalten & Bredevoort – De Graafschapper, 6 December 1918
    De Graafschapper, 6 December 1918
    Gravedigger – Aaltensche Courant, 5 December 1919
    Aaltensche Courant, 5 December 1919
    Gravedigger Bredevoort – De Graafschapper, 1 March 1927
    De Graafschapper, 1 March 1927
    Papiermole, gravedigger – Aaltensche Courant, 9 February 1934
    Aaltensche Courant, 9 February 1934
    H. Zetstra Berkenhove public gardens Aalten – De Graafschapper, 21 August 1936
    De Graafschapper, 21 August 1936
    B.G. Bannink, municipal gravedigger – Dagblad Tubantia, 4 February 1959
    Dagblad Tubantia, 4 February 1959

    Sources

  • Jan Bennink built a glider

    Jan Bennink built a glider

    Aaltensche Courant, 2 October 1934

    The glorious weather of the past few days—true summer weather, with plenty of sunshine and mild temperatures—is still luring many people out to the woods and heath. Walkers and those in more of a hurry, venturing out by bicycle, often choose the beautiful Zelhemseweg (the present-day Romienendiek, ed.), the old Hessenweg, for their excursions.

    On Friday, there was something else to enjoy alongside the natural beauty. A number of young men were labouring along the soft, sandy road, pulling a cart laden with strange-looking contraptions. Pausing occasionally to catch their breath, they chatted and gestured animatedly. Clearly, something special was underway. Anyone wishing to satisfy their curiosity could only do so at the cost of a fair walk. The group pushed ever further, pulling or pushing with renewed zeal after every short rest. Upon reaching the Schaapskooi (sheepfold), the column turned right, and they halted at the edge of the woods on the heights above the flat, reclaimed terrain, where flowering lupins still painted bright, brilliant yellow spots on the brownish-grey surface here and there.

    There was no more catching of breath. Now, busy activity: nimble hands carefully took the mysterious objects from the cart and laid them out meticulously on the beautiful heathland according to a set plan. Pliers, wrenches, bolts, and nuts were produced. With care and deliberation, the various items were connected; the work began to take shape. What was about to happen here?

    A kind of sledge with a seat, and in front of it a swivelling stick where the feet could be placed. Behind that, a pair of upright tubes, firmly attached to the sledge. Next, it was the turn of a few large, flat pieces: a construction of tube and slats, covered with linen and paper, approximately 9 metres long and well over a metre wide. With combined effort, these pieces were placed on the upright tubes and secured with bolts. Tension wires ensured the correct alignment. The whole structure now took the shape of a large bird. All that remained was the tail, which was also soon attached, and before us stood a glider—perhaps not constructed to all requirements, but a very decent one nonetheless—with an elevator and rudder on the tail, albeit without ailerons on the rear of the wings.

    Everything was checked thoroughly one last time, nuts were tightened again, tension wires were adjusted slightly, and then the first test was to be carried out. The tow cable—in this case, a number of inner tubes—was attached, the device was dragged to the edge of the slope, and the pilot took his place on the sledge. Feet on the ‘steering’, checking briefly if it worked, and yes, it worked fine. The rudders responded to the slightest pressure of the foot.

    Zweefvliegtuig-vlucht –- Aaltensche Courant, 05-10-1934
    Aaltensche Courant, 5 October 1934

    Now, the great moment had arrived. Expectations were high. Would it succeed? One part of the helpers positioned themselves behind the machine to hold it back; another part went to the tow cable and pulled, pulled with all their might to achieve the greatest possible tension. After all, the greater the speed at take-off, the greater the chance of lifting off the ground. The wind, too, played a part. However, it was nowhere to be seen; it was absolutely still.

    They decided to give it a try regardless. The helpers pulled harder; one more tug, and with a whistling sound, the rubber cable, stretched to its limit, snapped. A mixture of sadness and amusement: sadness over the setback, amusement at the helpers who bit the dust, rolling down the slope head over heels. Soon, however, the cable was repaired. An experience richer, they started again, this time with a little less energy. Then the pilot’s command: “Let go.”

    With a jerk, the contraption lurched forward and glided along the ground for a distance, even lifting slightly. But there was no talk of gliding yet. Back to the starting point. The elevator was adjusted to be a bit steeper, and they started again. And yes, it went better. The aircraft clearly lifted off the ground, but it landed somewhat uncomfortably a bit further on. Without too much damage, however.

    Back to the starting point once more. The third time’s the charm. Once again, the helpers pulled with all their might, the command “Let go” sounded again, and again the bird surged forward, now with the elevator even steeper, and yes, now it was going up. This silent bird glided over a stream, but one of its wings struck a tree branch. The wing snapped off, and like a bird shot in flight, the machine slid down and hit the ground with a crash, irreparably damaged.

    Months of labour in spare hours had been destroyed in one fell swoop. The still-usable material was dismantled and loaded back onto the handcart, and a less enthusiastic troop returned to the village. Less enthusiastic than on the way there, but the constructor, the 17-year-old electrician Bennink, was not discouraged. After all, it had worked! It must be possible with a home-built, but slightly better-constructed device of more stable build. Plans for this were already being made, and this indicates that we will likely see this enterprising young man make another attempt in some time. Taught by experience, a subsequent attempt will surely have a better chance of success.

    Glider Bennink Aalten – Graafschapbode, 03-10-1934
    De Graafschapbode, 3 October 1934

    The builder of the glider, Jan Bennink, lived on the Kattenberg in Aalten. Ninety years later, a home-built glider by Jan Bennink was discovered near his childhood home, in the attic of a building on the Lichtenvoordsestraatweg where a friend of his lived at the time. Perhaps this friend hid it as a precaution shortly after the outbreak of World War II, after Bennink had been questioned at the police station about his flying hobby.

    Sources

    • Aaltensche Courant, 2 October 1934 (Delpher)
    • Aaltensche Courant, 5 October 1934 (Delpher)
    • De Graafschapbode, 3 October 1934 (Delpher)
    • De Gelderlander, 10 July 2024 (Gelderlander.nl)
  • Fratricide in Aalten

    Fratricide in Aalten

    On Friday, April 24, 1931, 24-year-old Anton Prinsen was found dead on the threshing floor of his parental home in ‘t Dal. The alerted physician soon suspected that foul play might be involved. The event caused a great stir in the village and was reported in the national press.

    Fratricide in Aalten – 't Dal 14
    The farmhouse and barn where the tragedy unfolded.

    Anton Prinsen lived with his brother Derk Jan (1908) and their mother, the widow Mina Prinsen-te Kiefte (1873), in a farmhouse with the former address Aalten A160. Following the address change in 1934, this became ‘t Dal 14. It appears that violent disagreements frequently occurred within the Prinsen family. Both brothers were known to be very rough.

    On that particular Friday morning at approximately half past seven, Dr. Hartman was alerted by a neighbor boy that Anton Prinsen had fallen on the threshing floor. Prinsen was supposed to bring a load of fertilizer to the fields that morning and was to borrow a horse from a certain V. for that purpose. When he failed to collect it, people went to check and found the body lying on the threshing floor. When the doctor arrived at the scene, Anton had already passed away.

    As a tragic detail, it was also mentioned that the victim had entered into a notice of intended marriage on the Wednesday before his death.

    Possible crime

    Based on the position of the body and the visible external injuries, Dr. Hartman concluded that a crime may have been committed. The mayor and the chief constable were alerted and appeared at the scene. They immediately launched an investigation and interrogated the household members, mother and son, as well as the individuals who had been at the scene after the accident. Mother and son declared that Anton had fallen and hit his head on a handcart in such a way that he succumbed to his injuries. However, the investigation reinforced the suspicion of foul play, and the public prosecutor’s office in Zutphen was notified by telephone.

    The body was temporarily seized and guarded by the police. Around half past two in the afternoon, the public prosecutor, Mr. Baron Speyaart van Woerden, the examining magistrate, Mr. Mees, the clerk of the court, Mr. Meindersma, and two doctors arrived for the autopsy. Later, a police expert, Dr. Hesselink from Arnhem, also arrived.

    The examining magistrate interrogated the brother of the deceased, but he denied all guilt. After Dr. Hesselink took several photographs of the position of the body, the remains were transported to the Rest Home by police stretcher. Meanwhile, the experts and the chief constable searched for blood and other traces. These were discovered on the walls, the outer door of the threshing floor, and on several sacks of grain.

    Arrest

    An autopsy on the victim’s body indicated that he had died by strangulation. The brother of the deceased was arrested and placed in custody. The detainee was escorted to the police station on foot, watched by a large crowd discussing the case. This later led to parliamentary questions from Member of Parliament Mrs. Bakker-Nort. The Minister of Justice replied that “an investigation has shown him that on the evening of Friday, April 24, 1931, at approximately nine o’clock, the suspect in question was transferred unhandcuffed from his home to the police station in Aalten, and very shortly thereafter from that station to the detention cells, covering a total distance of approximately 750 m. Since no escape was feared, the public’s attitude was calm, and the suspect, instead of expressing any objection to the transfer on foot, showed great indifference, the police officers charged with the transfer apparently found no reason to seek a means of transport for that evening transfer over the relatively short distance. The minister believes that under the given circumstances, and since the use of a cellular van was naturally excluded, the manner in which the suspect was transferred can hardly be subject to well-founded objections.”

    On Saturday morning at 8 o’clock, the suspect was transferred to Zutphen and placed at the disposal of the Public Prosecutor. At the tram station, he called out a “Mòjn” (local greeting) to all his acquaintances.

    Confession

    A few days later, the mother and brother finally made a full confession. According to them, the events unfolded as follows:

    Early Friday morning, the widow Prinsen called her son Anton to milk the cows. This young man then used some very improper expressions toward his mother and began milking. When his mother called him to eat while he was milking the second cow, he replied: “Oh old woman, I’d rather slice you into strips.” Thereupon, the other son Derk attacked his brother, and a violent struggle ensued. Suddenly, Derk Jan noticed that he had squeezed his brother Anton’s throat too hard. He cried: “Mother, mother, I have killed him! Don’t say anything, don’t make me miserable!”

    Fratricide in Aalten – Limburgsch Dagblad, 4 May 1931
    Limburgsch Dagblad, 4 May 1931

    Both then agreed not to tell the truth and devised a false statement. It was to be presented as if Anton had fallen with his head against a wheel of a handcart and that this had resulted in his death. This is what they told Dr. Hartman, the mayor, and the chief constable on Friday morning.

    The Limburgsch Dagblad reported on May 4 that the mother had also been detained for complicity and even for strangling the unconscious victim. This charge was presumably later withdrawn, as the court records mention nothing about it.

    Court case

    Fratricide and sexual assault in Aalten – Arnhemsche Courant, 5 May 1931
    Arnhemsche Courant, 5 May 1931

    The District Court in Zutphen sentenced Derk Jan Prinsen by verdict of October 23, 1931, to 10 years’ imprisonment, with credit for time served in pre-trial detention. Both the suspect and the public prosecutor appealed this ruling. The defense counsel was Mr. H. Maten, a lawyer from Arnhem.

    In the appeal case, a witness stated about the suspect: “He has limited intellect, is backward and shy.” The court report also mentions that the suspect “comes from a difficult background, that the family was not favorably known, and that repeated thefts etc. occurred.”

    Shortly after the crime, the Arnhemsche Courant had reported that the accused was also suspected of assaulting a 14-year-old girl in Lintelo. However, nothing is mentioned about this in the court records.

    On Thursday, February 4, 1932, the Court of Appeal in Arnhem ruled that the perpetrator did not have the intent to kill his brother, so that this was ‘merely’ a case of assault resulting in death. The maximum sentence for that offense was six years, and that maximum sentence was therefore imposed by the Court, without credit for time served. Prinsen served four years of this, after which the sentence was converted into a conditional one.

    Anton Prinsen was buried at the Old Cemetery on the Varsseveldsestraatweg.

    Perpetrator continues on the wrong path

    More than ten years later, on March 3, 1943, the newspaper Het Volk wrote:

    “The perpetrator of the murder of seven-year-old Guusje Zadelhof, which was committed last Sunday in Hummelo, 34-year-old D.J. Prinsen from Aalten, also committed the murder of his brother approximately ten years ago, whom he killed by strangulation during a fight.

    This is not the only crime on his criminal record. On February 5 last, he had just been released from prison, where he had spent a year for chicken theft.

    As we understand, Dr. Hulst from Leiden performed an autopsy on the body of the young victim. It is not excluded that the murderer first beat the boy with a stick. After that, he was struck with an axe.”

    The Arnhem court sentenced the now 34-year-old farmhand for this crime to 15 years’ imprisonment with credit for time served, followed by TBS (mandatory psychiatric treatment).

    The boy was murdered after entering the barn at his parental home that Sunday morning to feed his rabbits. He had presumably disturbed Prinsen, who had spent the night there.

    Murderer from Aalten is an old acquaintance of the police – Het Volk, 3 March 1943
    Het Volk, 3 March 1943

    Sources

    • Graafschapbode, 27 April 1931 (Delpher)
    • Graafschapbode, 29 April 1931 (Delpher)
    • Limburgsch Dagblad, 4 May 1931 (Delpher)
    • Arnhemsche Courant, 5 May 1931 (Delpher)
    • Graafschapbode, 1 June 1931 (Delpher)
    • Graafschapbode, 23 October 1931 (Delpher)
    • Graafschapbode, 5 February 1932 (Delpher)
    • Graafschapbode, 19 February 1932 (Delpher)
    • Dagblad van het Oosten, 2 March 1943 (Delpher)
    • Het Volk, 3 March 1943 (Delpher)
    • Dagblad van het Oosten, 9 June 1943 (Delpher)
  • Wolves in Aalten

    Wolves in Aalten

    In 1937, G.H. Rots described how life used to be in Aalten in a series of articles in the Aaltensche Courant. Regarding wolf hunting, he wrote:

    “Just as fox hunts are organised nowadays to exterminate the few long-tailed foxes that remain, this was once done to eradicate a larger and more harmful predator. In the years when the population suffered greatly at the hands of marauding soldiers, the wolf was still a feared predator in these parts.

    Imagine the situation in those days. Extensive forests, and in the lowlands, the farmsteads. Livestock grazed in the meadows, surrounded by woodland. The coppice also grew luxuriantly around the essen (es-lands). An eldorado for wildlife, therefore. The wolf went hunting, and the farmers’ dwindling livestock was also plagued by its natural enemy. Large drives were then organised.

    Large nets were stretched out somewhere, and the game was driven into them, while the hunters lay in wait to bring down the prey with their guns, equipped with ‘pan and stone’ (flintlock mechanism). However, the wolves likely disappeared more due to advancing deforestation than through the hunts. Especially when the torch of war ceased to burn and the farming population settled everywhere, the wolves’ reign came to an end.”

    Wolf Hunt, 16th-century print by Etienne Delaune, Rijksmuseum Amsterdam
    Wolf Hunt, 16th-century print by Etienne Delaune, Rijksmuseum Amsterdam

    June 1923

    About a century ago, there were reports of a wolf present in the woods of ’t Walfort.

    De Graafschapper, 12 June 1923
    De Graafschapper, 12 June 1923

    December 1847

    During the night of 5 to 6 December, two ‘large dogs’ wreaked havoc in the sheep pen at Kortbeek farm in Heurne, Aalten.

    Groninger Courant, 14 December 1847
    Groninger Courant, 14 December 1847
    Wolf hunt in the Achterhoek (1600)
    Wolf hunt in the Achterhoek (1600)

    Sources