Tag: Aalten Achteruit

Aaltensche Courant, 21 May 1948

Two cousins meet on the boat after not having seen each other for 13 years

Great joy prevailed on Wednesday in the Neerhof and Lievers families when their sons returned home safe and healthy after 13 and 2½ years of service in the Far East, respectively. Maypoles and greenery, waving flags—everything pointed to a joyful return. We had the pleasure of hearing some details from both young men.

Henk Neerhof

There I finally experienced the liberation in 1945, a liberation I will never forget. It was the Americans who delivered us from all that misery. With our exhausted bodies, we jumped and danced. Americans, great guys! It was simply exhilarating.

Finally, Henk mentioned that he will return to the Indies again. We wish him a very pleasant leave and, for later, a good voyage and a safe arrival in the Indies.

Jan Lievers

Besides the joyful entry into Aalten, Jan was especially struck by the extraordinary reception given to the returning soldiers in IJmuiden and Amsterdam. Thousands of people were out on the streets; it was grand. „I am, of course, very happy to be home again; it is now a matter of getting back to work as soon as possible.” We also wish Jan all the best and much happiness in the future.

Return from the East

De Graafschapper, 5 July 1948

On Saturday, our fellow townsmen, the volunteers Stronks (Haart 10) and Weevers (1st Broekdijk), returned from the Indies. Mr. Neerhof (Trompstraat) also returned. He stayed in the tropics for 13 years. Upon his return, the A.O.V. performed a serenade. We hope to return to this in more detail in tomorrow’s edition.

Home again after 13 years

De Graafschapper, 6 July 1948

In 1935, the brothers H. and J.H. Neerhof left for the Indies as members of the KNIL. Now, after 13 years, both have returned home safely. Because of this special event, we paid them a visit to congratulate them on their safe return. It appeared that both had led a quiet and good life until 1942.

When the war broke out, both were taken prisoner of war. Both ended up at the so-called Death Railway, the railway line from Thailand to Indo-China. One on one side and the other on the other side. However, they never had the opportunity to speak to each other there. J.H. Neerhof then went to Indo-China, where he remained until the end of the war. He was full of praise for the treatment he received from the French there.

H. Neerhof was transferred from Thailand to Japan, where he went to work in the coal mines of Kyushu. After the capitulation, he was transferred via Nagasaki—where he saw the destruction caused by the atomic bomb—to the Philippines. In Manila, he spent 2 months in quarantine with the Americans. After that, he returned to the Indies, where his brother had also returned in the meantime.

On April 23, they met again in Batavia for the first time in 13 years. About 6 weeks ago, H. Neerhof came home, and on Saturday, J.H. Neerhof arrived. Both stated they were very moved by the homecoming prepared for them here. A fantastic homecoming, as they stated several times.

Aaltensche Courant, 26 October 1945

Quite unexpectedly, H.M. the Queen paid a visit to our municipality. On Wednesday afternoon, the cars carrying H.M. the Queen, her secretary, Miss Geldern, and her secretary, Mr. Kohnstam, arrived from the direction of Dinxperlo and stopped in front of the home of the alderman of Aalten, Mr. H. J. Wikkerink, better known in illegal circles by the name of “Oome Jan”.

“Oome Jan” has a respectable record of service in the underground movement during the years of occupation and currently resides in his workshop “Nooit Gedacht”, as the Germans, out of rage that they could not capture “Oome Jan”, set fire to his house next door. The Wikkerink family had been informed of the royal visit only moments before.

Her Majesty, who arrived around one o’clock, stayed for more than half an hour in the home of “Oome Jan” and enjoyed a cup of tea with relish. Meanwhile, several prominent workers from the illegal movement had gathered in the living room and were soon engaged in a busy conversation with Her Majesty.

From the conversations, it appeared that She was already aware of the important work carried out here in the Achterhoek during the war years, and She inquired with interest about various details. Both “Oome Jan” and Messrs. Lichtenberg of the L.O. and Allersma of the K.P. spoke of the underground work and the dangerous tasks that had to be completed. They also recalled the spontaneous cooperation of the population and the aid to the West in the form of wagonloads of rye bread, which were sent at a very low price.

A charming detail was also the presence of Mrs. Jedwab with her young son, who at the time had been left as a foundling on the doorstep of “Oome Jan’s” home while the parents were in hiding. This Jewish boy was then lovingly taken in and given the name Willem Herfstink, as autumn had just made its entry that day. Rev. Kuijper also spoke of the razzia, which was held on January 29, 1944, in the Reformed Church, during which 42 people in hiding were arrested and only a few were able to escape. The mayor, who was also present at “Oome Jan’s”, also shared some information about the events of the past years.

Originally, it had been H.M.’s intention during her journey through these regions to visit the “Somsenhuus”, the farm of Mr. Prinsen in IJzerlo, where so much underground work was performed in recent years. Members of the K.P. found shelter here for a long time, as did a number of English pilots who awaited liberation here. This farm burned down after the liberation due to a lightning strike. This visit did not take place. Between Dinxperlo and Aalten, the cars turned into a side road near the Prinsenboschje, where the party had some refreshments in the car.

A massive crowd had gathered in front of “Oome Jan’s” home, where the monarch was heartily cheered. Upon her departure, the Wilhelmus was enthusiastically sung. This day will surely remain long in the memory of “Oome Jan” and his comrades, who so often risked their lives in the struggle against the oppressor and did so much for our people and fatherland.

De Graafschapper, 18 May 1945

Letters from De Graafschap

Dear me,

I can imagine that as a former Achterhoeker, born and raised in our beautiful region, you are very curious about news from our region and how we are all doing here. It will be a pleasure for me to inform you from time to time of what has happened here and what is going to happen. Let me start by telling you that we have generally come off well here in our Achterhoek. The Tommies who came in here from the direction of Bocholt just before Easter were amazed by the friendly, apparently still prosperous country. into which, after the debris fields of Germany, they were suddenly transferred.

“You see here again an undamaged house,” said one to me, “and you see friendly people again, who laugh and wave at you! We have experienced that differently in recent months” Still, it was not given to us as a gift, don’t think so. The last six months in particular have been quite haunted here. Also in the political field. It was raid after raid. Greens, blacks, land guards, Gestapo, S.S., we have experienced all that beauty in its different variations here. Anyway, you have experienced that yourself in the city. so you know all about it. Let me rather tell you how we celebrated the liberation here, when it became known that our entire people was freed from slavery.

I can tell you best about Aalten, where I happened to experience it myself, but I am sure that the same enthusiasm prevailed throughout the Achterhoek. You should come to Winterwijk today, which was worn out for a hotbed of the party, right? It only now becomes clear what a “thin” layer of the population there actually kept the terror going, because there is no municipality in the Achterhoek, where you see flags as exuberantly as right there.

The music was immediately on his feet, you get that. In the afternoon a whole procession with children and the elderly followed through the decorated streets and it was a joy to hear a Dutch march again. The case stopped for a moment in front of Jan Wikkerink’s house. You may remember them from school in the past. And otherwise I just say “Uncle Jan”, then at least every person in hiding in the Achterhoek knows who it is. Well, that musical tribute at his doorstep was, in my opinion, exactly right. Because that’s just an ordinary contractor, isn’t it? but what a lot that man has achieved during the war years, so secretly gone.

He was quietly district head of the National Organization for People in Hiding and made sure that all those boys stayed alive and, if possible, out of the hands of the slave hunters. He and his men housed countless people there, (you know that there in Aalten they have the name hadden. dat there were as many people in hiding as inhabitants?) and where it was necessary to provide all those people with ration cards, not only city people, but also a lot of Jews and everything else, with the Gestapo on their heels, den Achterhoek came fleeing in. In cooperation with the Knock teams, many distribution offices in our area have been honored with a fruitful visit and Oome Jan always had the quiet, cautious leadership of them.

It was therefore no surprise when one night a child was abandoned on his doorstep. After all, he knew what to do with everything and everyone and he was simply the big placement agency, apparently also for babies. Anyway, the little one didn’t have to go far, he stayed at the same address, i.e. on the other side of the front door, where he was lovingly welcomed. It was exactly on the 21st of September and so the foundling was officially registered at the town hall the next morning with a straight face under the name Willem Herfstink . (After all, the suffix “ink” means “the son of” in Achterhoeksch). But on the first day of the liberation, the “Son of Autumn” returned to his own address, namely to the Jew master, who was very happy with his wife that they had kept their little one safe in such a dangerous time. You understand that that card was again pierced with real Achterhoek cleverness. The doctor had taken the child of the parents in hiding straight to Uncle Jan, who was already waiting for it behind the door.

It was a shock to the whole region when they finally got hold of Uncle Jan. If the whole region heard about it as soon as possible, because the captivity lasted only a few hours. The knock team could have put it right sooner, but they had to wait a while for the doctor for the chloroform and the sergeant on duty of the military police also had to rehearse how he should be intoxicated as really as possible. But then it was done, only the doctor was still busy for an hour and a half to call the good sergeant back to life, because the boys had worked him a bit too enthusiastically with the chloroform-dot.

The quiet figure of Uncle Jan had since disappeared from sight, but he now had so much more time for his illegal work. The Germans were furious as usual and knew nothing better to do than to throw a few hand grenades into his house in impotent rage, which of course burned down in the end. But better the house than Uncle Jan, everyone said comforted, and so the music of the week was a spontaneous tribute from the whole population. And it was certainly also with the approval of the whole village, when later a few songs were played in front of the house of the late Dr. of the Widows, who gave so much clandestine help and in particular was a lifesaver for many boys in the camps of Bocholt and Rees. The Achterhoek knows how to celebrate, but also to sympathize with those for whom the party is impossible due to harrowing memories.

At the end of my letter, I will tell you one more example of this, which will do you good. It was in one of the rural districts that the music association went around the farms with blaring festivities. But there was a shadow over this rural district. On the last day before the liberation, a direct hit in an air-raid shelter had snatched five children from one family, with two older evacuees, from their lives. The site of that disaster was on the main road, where the procession passed. But a hundred yards from that place the music fell silent, and they went on in silence. And there at that burned-out shelter that chorale of the 103rd Psalm was played in the moving silence of all neighbors: Like the grass is our ephemeral life… Then they quietly moved on and only at a great distance from that place the festive music was resumed.

I am writing this to you because I know it will do you good. The war has not hardened us and made us numb. There is still room in the heart of the Achterhoek for compassion and quiet piety.

See you again, you
GERT GROOTERS

De Graafschapper, 15 May 1945

One of these days brought a peculiar surprise for the Houwers family at “Neerhof” in Dale. They received a letter from a Frenchman who sought and found refuge there for about three weeks, but was then unfortunately dragged away by cruel S.S. men, as was the person in hiding from Apeldoorn, Henk, who also became a victim. A third fugitive managed to escape.

Around mid-July of last year, our Remy arrived at the Houwers’. “Good people?” was his first question. One immediately noticed by the peculiar accent that he was a foreigner. There was not much time for talking, and therefore he was quickly transported to the attic, where he passed the time peeling potatoes and shelling beans. The greatest difficulty was the difference in language, so that he could only make himself understood to the daughter, a teacher. But then, sometimes, exciting stories would emerge.

He was, so he said, a French non-commissioned officer who had fought in Madagascar, Africa, and French Indo-China, among other places. In 1940, he was unfortunately one of the first prisoners of war to be taken. However, there was no soldier in the entire camp more industrious than Remy. He soon won the trust of his guards. Consequently, he was moved to a factory in Krefeld. By feigning illness, he had to go to the toilet abnormally often. This gave him the opportunity to make plans for his escape. He had already tried this three times before, but they had always caught him again before he reached France.

In his workshop, he made a compass from an old tin-opener. A razor blade, which had been magnetized with a knife, was attached to a bachelor button. He put a bit of radium on the North Pole of the magnet so he could orient himself, even at night. Cigarettes were saved and exchanged for a civilian suit. He made his final preparations, paid “honor” to his “illness” one last time, and then escaped through the toilet window. After a journey of 4 days, during which he took catnaps under the thorns by day and fled North by night, aided by his compass, he safely crossed the border. Towards morning he reached the Houwers’, where he was so well received that he decided to stay here.

He stayed at “’t Neerhof” for three weeks, and then he was caught for the fifth time and taken to Arnhem. After this, as he writes in his letter, he was imprisoned in a camp near Bocholt. In September, however, he was moved and ended up in Münster. But here it soon became too hot for the Germans, because “the bunch of idiots,” as Hitler once expressed in his speech, kept advancing in their direction. They were thus forced to move away, and now their goal was Bremen. But on the way, Remy writes, I had no desire to follow them any further; in other words: for the fifth time, our friend managed to escape. And this time he had more luck, for a week after his last flight, the Americans came to liberate him and brought him safely back to his birthplace; Palalda, in the Pyrenees.

The letter was written on April 18, 1945, and reached its destination on May 9. We sincerely congratulate the Houwers family, who did so much for this young man, on this letter, and we hope that the other person in hiding, Henk, who was first taken to Amersfoort and then ended up in Germany, may also soon return to native soil, along with all the others who are still there.

March 30th, 1945

At the end of the Second World War, on Good Friday, March 30, 1945 , Aalten was liberated by British troops. This liberation was part of the large-scale Allied advance through the eastern Netherlands, immediately after crossing the Rhine during Operation Plunder. The liberators belonged to the 1st Battalion Grenadier Guards and the 3rd Battalion Irish Guards, both part of the 32nd Guards Brigade within the Guards Armoured Division of the British Army. ¹

Advance to Aalten

At the end of March 1945, the Guards entered the Achterhoek from Germany. The Grenadier Guards formed the vanguard and advanced along the Bocholtsestraatweg towards Aalten and then on to Enschede, with the Irish Guards as mechanized infantry in their wake. ² The advance was hampered by destroyed bridges, minefields and fierce resistance from retreating German units.

The King’s Company of the Grenadier Guards was ordered to advance towards the centre of Aalten via the so-called ‘centre line’. However, important bridges turned out to have been blown up by the Germans. The bridge on the Bodendijk was partly still intact and Major Baker, commander of the King’s Company, led his men over it. ³

When they arrived at the railway, the men encountered fierce resistance and were bombarded with mortar fire and grenades. The fight with the enemy had disastrous consequences for the liberators: several soldiers were killed, including platoon commander Andrew Duncan. ⁴

Around midnight, another two soldiers of the Irish Guards were killed because their vehicle hit a mine in the then Dijkstraat (now Plein Zuid). The explosion led to a fierce fire in which the old café Vultink burned down completely. The next day, March 31, 1945, two engineers of the Royal Engineers were killed while clearing mines. ⁵

Losses and cemetery

Of the total of 13 British soldiers who died, 12 are buried in the Berkenhove general cemetery in Aalten. Platoon commander Andrew Duncan is buried in the Reichswald Forest War Cemetery near Kleve. Thanks to historical research, photos of twelve of these soldiers have now also been found. This literally gave the liberators a face. ⁶

After the liberation

Immediately after the liberation, the Aaltensche Courant appeared again. Shortly after the liberation on April 4, three boys, eight-year-old Wim Schenk, his six-year-old brother Henk and five-year-old Wim Wisselink found a projectile in a dry ditch on the Bocholtsestraatweg. They decided to test the projectile and threw it against the wall of a house. The three children were killed. ⁷

In honour of the efforts of the King’s Company, the bridge over the Keizersbeek was named the King’s Company Bridge. The ceremony took place on May 5, 2008 and was attended by, among others, veteran Walter Price, who actually served in this unit in 1945. ⁸

Gelkinkweg, De Heurne

In the summer of 1944, De Bark, an uninhabited farm between Aalten and Dinxperlo, became a hiding place for a growing number of mostly young people in hiding, who wanted to avoid the Arbeitseinsatz, as well as a few Allied pilots who had been shot down.

On Sunday morning, February 25, 1945, the guard sounded the alarm when three German soldiers from a surveying unit made an unexpected visit to the front house, where they had found no fighters but possibly suspicious objects.

After leaving the house, the Germans were arrested, disarmed and imprisoned by the ‘Lange Henk’ and comrades, armed with a sten gun. The same happened to their colleague who was waiting for them in an army truck. The command was then faced with a complex problem: how to keep it out of the knowledge of the German occupier and what to do with the four prisoners?

Reprisal

The reprisal measure of the German occupying forces was merciless. Forty-six political prisoners were taken from the camp De Kruisberg (Doetinchem) and executed on the border of Aalten and Wisch, near the Aalten toll.

In the meantime, the resistance group had left De Bark according to plan and moved to an old agricultural shed on the Dinxperlosestraatweg between Aalten and Dinxperlo. The news that the ruse with the staged ‘car accident’ had failed and the German reprisal by liquidating 46 Dutch political prisoners did not reach them until many days later. It first aroused disbelief in them and then a deep impression.

They were not given much time for reflection and processing, because in the meantime four Allied divisions had crossed the Rhine and were approaching the Achterhoek. On March 30, they made contact for the first time with two Canadian combat vehicles, which turned up at the ‘Somsenhuus‘. The liberation was a fact.

On Saturday , February 24, 1945, bombs fell on and around the intersection of Kruisstraat (now Prinsenstraat) and Bredevoortsestraatweg, in the center of Aalten. The consequences of the bombing were disastrous: eight people died, including three children, some were injured and the devastation was enormous.

Addie Steenbergen, daughter of baker Steenbergen, lived almost on the corner of Kruisstraat and Prinsenstraat. A couple had just left the store when the air raid siren went off. The couple did not want to go into the shelter, but continued to take shelter in the porch. Addie had to go to the other side of the street from her mother to pick up her sister Netty, who was playing there. Mother Helmink was still outside and shouted that Netty was already in the shelter at her home. Addie went back home into the bomb shelter. Mother, grandma Meijnen and sister Bea, were already there.

Father and Toon Lammers, the servant, were still outside at the entrance to the shelter when the bomb hit. The bomb landed on the Steenbergen bakery. When they see a huge blowtorch, Addie’s mother tells them to sit close to her: “If we burn, at least they will see that we were sitting together.”

There was a huge cloud of dust and then a total silence…

Eyewitness report

Eyewitness account of Cindy Weeber’s father about the tragedy on February 24, 1945, written down in 2006:

“My brother had to get bread from the Wikkerink bakery, on Bredevoortsestraat, and I wanted to get a toll from the Cooperative. We went with my father’s bicycle, my brother Henk cycled and I sat on the back of the ‘pakkiesdrager’, and so we went to Aalten. First we went to get bread from Albert Wikkerink and then we cycled on to the Cooperative to get a toll for me.

Suddenly the siren sounded, a warning for air raid sirens. My brother Henk threw the bicycle with bread against the façade of the Buesink forge and hid from the bombs there and I went to shelter at bakery Steenbergen. What followed was a deafening noise of bombs whizzing down. All this took about 10 minutes. After about fifteen minutes I dared to get up. My hands, arms and head were full of wounds but I had nothing else. Afterwards I realized that I could have been dead, but when you lie there like that, you don’t think about it. When I got up and went outside, everything was one big mess and I was full of dust from top to bottom.

As I was scurrying over the rubble, I heard my brother shouting, “Jan, Jan, here I am.” I recognized his voice and shouted, “Where are you?” “Here”, it sounded and I saw a gray figure coming towards me. It was my brother Henk who was also covered in small wounds, but otherwise he was fine. The bike and the bag of bread were totally crushed.

My brother said to me , “Go home quickly, and tell them that everything is all right,” and I ran home and told father and mother what had happened. They both panicked and thought the worst, but I said that Henk was also fine. Father then went with me to pick up the bicycle and the bread, but everything was covered in rubble.

Later I heard that there were seven deaths. We did have a guardian angel then because we were both practically unharmed.

What I have noticed now, after all these years, is that my brother never talked to me about this incident again. This is becoming more and more apparent in me. I don’t know why, but every now and then I wake up at night, wet with sweat, and I see the weather in front of me. Maybe it can be explained as you get older, but it comes back more and more often.

Unfortunately, my brother passed away. How I would have liked to have talked to him about it, but alas. After a good 60 years, there comes a time when you start thinking about why we were spared and those seven others were not.”