Deliver Us From Darkness

by Ian Gardner

  I made up this elaborate story about wanting to see a sick relative in Wageningen. Slightly suspicious, one soldier went away, while I waited under the watchful eye of his colleague. The man returned with a couple of officers, who ordered me to repeat the story and I told it so well that I even began to believe it myself! As we were talking, I noticed several trucks pass by loaded with British paratroopers, most probably prisoners from the battle at Arnhem. The Germans seemed convinced by my tale but I wasn’t allowed to proceed any further. Once out of sight, I started to run and didn’t stop until I reached Rijk’s house, who kindly poured me a strong drink, before signalling the British with my report.

  Van Tintelen received another mission to smuggle a pair of Tommy guns by bicycle to the village of Zoelen. The submachine guns were wrapped in a set of overalls hidden in a tool bag. “About halfway, I ran into a German sentry and thinking the best form of defense is offense, calmly stopped and engaged the soldier in friendly conversation: ‘Excuse me mate how far is it to Maurik – I’m due to start work there on the defense line.’After a brief chat the guard waved me on my way without even asking what I had in the bag. That evening when I returned to Kesteren, Bram told me that Rijk van de Pol had been arrested.” Despite being badly beaten, Van de Pol did not reveal any information about the group and was later released as Dirk recalls: “Someone had betrayed Van de Pol, and we all suspected Driekus Romein, who’d been hiding at Rijk’s house after absconding from labor work in Germany but we were unable to prove anything.”

  The following day the Germans began to search houses and farms in Kesteren. Dirk’s group had received prior warning that a raid might be taking place but they had no idea that it would be so specific. When a patrol arrived at Bram van Ingen’s farm, they made directly for the outbuildings where Dirk was living. In his haste to escape, Van Tintelen left behind a pillowcase containing personal letters and photographs, as well as his army discharge papers, all of which were found by the enemy soldiers.

  “Bram and I went to see my older sister Areke (‘Zus’) in Lienden, where she lived with my brother-in-law, Henk (‘Niek’) Berends,” remembers Dirk. “Still shaken from the raid, I asked if they would help move some weapons and put us up for a short while. At the end of September, Zus and Niek received word that the authorities were closing in.” Bram and Dirk were fast running out of options and needed to act quickly or they could easily become trapped by the very place they were trying to defend. The two fugitives made up their minds and decided their only option was to escape across the Waal, the southern bank of which had recently been liberated by the Canadians as Dirk recalls: “The odds of successfully crossing the vast river were remote but it now seemed inevitable that the only probable outcome if we remained would be capture, torture, and death, so what choice did we have?”

  Approximately the same time as Dirk became a fugitive, the population of Kesteren was ordered to evacuate as the 363. Volksgrenadier Division began moving its forces into the area. “We cycled to another ‘safe house’ about five miles away at the ‘Café De Vogelenzang’ near the village of Echteld,” recalls Dirk. “Although we had plenty of food, the owners forced us to sleep on planks above a stinking sewage pit. Not long afterwards, Bram disappeared and I never saw him again. A day or so later, I was sent to see a local farmer who lived close to the Waal. Mr Derksen explained that although he had helped a number of other people flee across the river, it was now virtually impossible due to the fact that the dijk had recently become the German main line of defense. However, he was able to pass on vital information regarding guard changes and patrol patterns.”

  Somewhat unexpectedly, the cattle which usually grazed on the flood plains along the riverbank had all been moved. On previous escape attempts, livestock were used as a cover story to get the escapees across the dijk. To make matters worse, the Germans had just instructed the civilians living in Echteld to evacuate their homes by the following morning.

  The enemy had recently taken over a nearby farm and Derksen was nervous about two individuals who were already hiding on his property. One of the fugitives, Nico, came from Zeist, while the other had abandoned his family in Assen. After being introduced to the two men, Dirk immediately set about devising a plan of escape:

  I had a kind of a premonition about finding a boat down by the river and that everything would be OK. Of course Nico and his buddy thought I’d lost the plot but I felt someone was watching over me and decided freedom was worth the risk. They were still unconvinced but we all shook hands and agreed that if I found a boat, then we would all escape together.

  The “missing” cows gave me an idea and Derksen provided a stick and a couple of ropes, commonly used by cattle farmers when recovering livestock. Around 5pm, not long after setting off, I was stopped by a sentry, guarding the raised access road leading up to the dijk. The German was an older man and seemed slightly timid. As I was explaining, a Feldwebel [sergeant] walked over and demanded to know what was going on. After showing my false papers, I told both men that my dad was sick but a colleague had been kind enough to deliver his herd to “our” farm but two cows were missing. The soldiers listened intently and politely refused (thank goodness) when I asked them to help me look for the “absent” animals. As I turned to leave, they warned about the danger of Allied snipers and made it clear they couldn’t be held responsible for my safety if I ventured any further.

  Once Dirk crossed the metalled road over the main dijk, he was able to move unhindered towards the brick factory at Willems Polder. The factory was situated next to the river, one mile east of the Amsterdam Rijn Canal. Dirk reached the western edge of the brick plant and climbed over another dijk to reach the water’s edge. Much to his surprise, he discovered an old rowing boat lying abandoned among the shrubs on the sand, anchored by a half-buried chain. “Although the oars were missing and the boat full of water, I still couldn’t believe my luck. Lying on top of a nearby rubbish pile, I located an old clog and used it to bail out the water. Praying, I hauled the craft into the river and breathed a sigh of relief when it floated.”

  About 200 yards further along the bank was a dense group of tall willow trees that made for a perfect hiding place. Along the length of the river were dozens of breakwaters built at intervals to help prevent erosion. Each structure was around 100 yards long by about eight yards wide and had been laboriously created by piling thousands of boulders onto the bed of the river. One of these barriers was now in Dirk’s way: “As the boat was so heavy, my only option was to drag it around the breakwater. Along the way I picked up an old paddle, and the thought of just jumping in the boat and paddling away was hard to resist.”

  Eventually Dirk made it back to shore and hid the boat beneath the willows. He was tired and cold and had no idea of the time as his watch had become waterlogged. A storm was brewing and powerful gusts of wind conveniently masked Dirk’s footsteps as he ran along the track leading towards the main dijk. Earlier, Van Tintelen had seen two enemy outposts on the road and realized he was now somewhere between the two. “Under cover of darkness, I followed an elevated pathway which finally brought me back to the farm around three o’clock in the morning.”

  The next day the Germans started evacuating Echteld, and many people were on the move to locations further west. As a result, security seemed more relaxed as Dirk recalls:

  I used the opportunity to cycle over to the café at Vogelenzang, where there were suitable tools and raw materials to fashion a second paddle. When I got back to Echteld, it was completely deserted except for the Germans who were busy extending their defensive positions.

  The two guys hiding at Derksen’s farm were horrified when I told them how perilous our situation now appeared. The man from Assen got so worked up that he wanted to go home, Nico and I tried our best to change his mind but he wouldn’t listen. That night I handed him my bike and quietly wished him luck. There was no time to hang about, and with Nico carrying the paddles we followed the same route that I’d used to re
turn by the previous evening. Pistol in hand, it was my job to guard against any unwelcome intervention as we crossed the German defense line around 2am.

  It started to rain and after about 30 minutes we reached the shore. Still fearful of ambush, we moved forward and carefully prepared the boat for launching. As we floated towards open water, the current became stronger and immediately pulled the small craft out into the river (which was nearly 350 yards wide at this point). Paddling furiously, my arms soon became weak and Nico tried to take over, but quickly got into difficulties as the boat began spinning out of control. For a moment we were afraid that the boat would be forced back towards the northern bank. Despite the pain, I took the oars and just as my strength was all but gone Nico spotted a breakwater. “Come on, come on, row faster don’t miss it,” he shouted excitedly. With my last reserve of strength, I propelled our small craft into the calmer water provided by the barrier.

  It was pitch dark and still pouring with rain as we reached the beach on the southern shore. Stumbling through ditches and over barbed-wire fences, our conversation grew louder as we began to relax. We had been walking along a footpath for about 30 minutes, when I heard something and instinctively hit the ground. Moments later a couple of hand grenades detonated and two machine guns opened up from either side of the pathway.”

  When the firing stopped, I shouted the only English phrase I knew: “We are friends, it’s OK.” A green flare burst overhead and it was then that I realized Nico had been hit and severely wounded. Someone spoke to me in Dutch and after a brief explanation, I raised my hands and walked towards the soldiers, who were Canadians. After being searched and my pistol removed, I was forced at bayonet point to an old farmhouse. Mercifully, an ambulance arrived a few minutes later and took Nico away.

  After a full body search, the soldiers took me by Bren-gun carrier to their HQ at Sint Josef School, in Beneden-Leeuwen. A lieutenant arrived holding a detailed map of “the Island” and asked me to show him our escape route plus any detailed information I had about the enemy positions. The officer seemed very interested when I told him that all the civilians from Echteld and Kesteren had recently been evacuated. Despite my obvious compliance, the Canadians kept me under guard. Later that same day, the officer returned with an interpreter, Wim Blijdeveen, who I happened to know. By coincidence, Wim was one of my neighbors from Dodewaard (my family lived in the suburb of Wely). I explained to him about the German positions and also mentioned that I’d previously worked in the Vink’s cider and canning factory at Hien. By chance, Mr Vink was also on the south side of the river and thankfully was able to corroborate my story. Afterwards they told me I was free to leave but I had no desire to go anywhere and wanted to stay and fight with the Canadians. Wim kindly spoke to the commanding officer and it was arranged for me to have a medical exam.

  The following day, a doctor passed me fit for service and also explained that Nico was now out of danger, despite the fact that a fragment from the grenade had almost penetrated his heart. After some basic marksmanship tests, the Canadians had a whip-round and provided me with a uniform and a pair of boots. The soldiers threw a bit of a welcome party and later that night I accompanied them on a patrol to the dijk. The lieutenant who carried out my initial interrogation came over and said that he had a little surprise planned for about 4am. I nearly jumped for joy as salvo after salvo of artillery pulverized the enemy positions across the river at Echteld and Kesteren. It was a good feeling to know that the co-ordinates for the barrage had come from the maps I’d drawn. I hope it gave the German grenadiers something to think about!

  The tide begins to turn

  A few days after Dirk crossed the Waal, the southern bank became the front line when the first Allied tanks crossed the bridge at Nijmegen and began to liberate many towns and villages along the river. It was not long before the Allies entered Dodewaard and forced the Germans out of the village westwards to Ochten.

  Much of the predug defensive system around Dodewaard was utilized by British forces. Fighting intensified as the Germans tried in vain to envelop Dodewaard from Ochten, Kesteren, and Opheusden.

  For several days British gun batteries located in Dodewaard fired on the enemy positions in Opheusden and Ochten. The accurate counter-battery fire from the Germans badly damaged Dodewaard, forcing the resistance HQ to move from the town hall to a large house in Groenestraat at Wely and then to the Vink’s cider and canning factory at Hien.

  Jaap van Schaik was 11-years-old and living in Hien when the British arrived: “Our house was in the middle of the British rest area and we spent a lot of time with the soldiers, who amongst other things taught us to throw a range of knives and daggers.” Troops from the 7th Bn Somerset Light Infantry, 1st Bn the Worcestershire Regiment, and 5th Bn Duke of Cornwall’s Light Infantry (DCLI) began arriving in the area as part of the 214th Infantry Brigade’s advance and went into action on September 27, successfully pushing the Germans back from Opheusden and Randwijk. Jannie Arnoldussen happily recalls: “Before the attack, some of the Somerset boys were billeted in our barn at Zetten and being a vivacious 18-year-old blonde, the soldiers were always very pleased to see me.” By the end of September, the resistance men from Opheusden, led by Stoffel van Binsbergen, amalgamated with the Dodewaard BS to arrest NSB activists, Quislings, and women known to have been fraternizing with the enemy. No harm came to the women who had previously had relations with the Germans, the moffenmeiden, who were sent to holding camps south of the Waal, to prevent them sharing further information, or point the finger at the resistence, should the Germans win the battle for the Island.

  * At one point Otto Heldring was taken hostage by the Germans, who used him along with many others as collateral against reprisals. Luckily Otto was released in September 1944, and was able to assist the Allies, who found the Heldring establishments, many of which were empty at that time, ideal for command posts and headquarters.

  10

  “Quiet as a church”

  Opheusden – October 5–7, 1944

  The 82nd Airborne Division had successfully completed their original mission to capture and keep open the bridge at Nijmegen over the river Waal – the gateway to the Island. During the early afternoon of October 1, 1944, the 506th PIR were alerted for a possible move to the city. At the same time in the Veluwe, the Germans evacuated the civilian population of Wageningen to Bennekom, Ede, and Veenendaal. The event should have rung alarm bells across the Neder Rijn but it seemingly went unnoticed by the British. The following morning, the 506th, along with the 321st GFA, 81st Antiaircraft Battalion, and B/326 Airborne Engineers, were moved by road from Uden to Nijmegen, across the now-famous bridge to support the 82nd for what was to become perhaps the toughest phase of the entire campaign.

  When Gen Taylor relocated his CP to Slijk-Ewijk (called Slikkie Wikkie by the Allied troops), the men realized this was going to be a one-way ticket. The next day, the regiment replaced the British 214th Infantry Brigade (part of the 43rd Wessex Division) at Opheusden. The land around the small town of Opheusden was reclaimed floodplain consisting of open pasture and numerous apple and cherry orchards enclosed by deep drainage ditches and dijks. The Island campaign would soon become a succession of brief defensive stands, fierce fighting, and continuous outflanking movements for the depleted and fatigued paratroopers of the 506th PIR, and ultimately would be some of the darkest days for 3rd Bn.

  On October 3, due to a lack of transport the 506th was delayed in reaching its designated assembly area at Zetten. Eventually 2nd and 3rd Bn took over the main line of defense (LOD) while 1st Bn went into reserve. The consensus among the British soldiers coming out of the line was that the area was quiet and there would be no action. Although the LOD was blocking the important western approach to the Island, the sector had been undeniably peaceful for the last week.

  Maj Horton and his HQ staff moved into the spacious Boelenham farm, with Col Sink and 506th RHQ, just a few hours after the headquarters of the 214th Infantry Brigade moved o
ut. The new command post and message center was conveniently situated one and a half miles southeast of Opheusden, close to the Hemmen-Dodewaard railway station. Built in 1927, Boelenham was owned and occupied by a middle-aged couple, Dirk and Jakoba Tap, along with their eldest son Arie. Adjacent to the farmhouse were several substantial brick-built barns, accessed via a long driveway from Boelenhamsestraat, the main road leading into Opheusden. Hidden behind trees on the eastern side of the driveway were the ruins of a small castle, complete with moat.

  Almost every room on the ground floor was utilized by the Americans, except the kitchen which remained a living area for the Taps. Executive Officer Bob Harwick found a comfortable bed upstairs, in what had previously been a nursery of some kind. For the most part, the Tap family slept in a spacious cellar built under the western side of the property. The shelter was located close to the kitchen at the rear of the house and accessed through a small doorway that opened onto a steep flight of stone steps. The enormous vault was designed to store crops during the cold winter months, and offered the family ideal protection from the war.

  The 5th Battalion, Duke of Cornwall’s Light Infantry, was attached to the 101st Airborne as a mobile reserve. The commander of 5th DCLI, 39-year-old LtCol George Taylor, posted one of his lieutenants to the 506th as a liaison officer before setting up his battalion HQ in one of the large barns next to the farmhouse.

  “When the third battalion moved into Opheusden, some of the vacating British soldiers were led away by a piper,” recalls Bill Wedeking fondly. “The machine-gun platoon was ordered by Maj Horton to occupy the railroad station which also became our CP. A British tank was located nearby and the crew was having a pot of tea, so we decided to walk over and join them. The tankers liked our folding-stock M1A1 carbines because they were nice and compact, so we swapped one of our ‘spares’ for two German pistols.”