The Diary Keepers, page 16
MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 28, 1942— . . . It is so strange, but the house is like a beehive. There are always more people coming.
WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 30, 1942—We received two more ladies tonight. One has a doctorate in biology, who is studying to become a pharmacist. Her sister is a biologist. These educated ladies make for illustrious company. Mrs. Rotschild also arrived, so the house is again full of people. Friday night they will all move into Idwo. Those who have been at House #2, as we call Idwo, will move to House #3, Blauwvoet, tomorrow. There is so much to organize. We have such a large group of guests in the evening (six now), and always wonderful conversation. One cannot comprehend why these people are being persecuted.
SATURDAY, OCTOBER 3, 1942—Today is our thirtieth wedding anniversary. We kept it very quiet, but we still received flowers, including some from those we are helping. We don’t like parties, and also, maybe, we had a premonition of what was going to happen tonight. Again, there has been widespread persecution of the Jews, not only in Amsterdam and Rotterdam, but also in Zwolle, Meppel, Deventer, Zutphen, Arnhem and Apeldoorn. Women and children hauled out of their homes, taken to schools at night, and deported in the morning. Everybody is so nauseated about it. In Amsterdam it continued until 5 o’clock in the morning. At the same time, whole labor camps have been emptied. Hitler said in his speech that the Jews want to destroy the Aryans, so instead they destroy the Jews. There’s nothing you can do about it, except try to help them. As a Christian, you feel such guilt toward those people, and that you must help. We work as carefully as we possibly can, we don’t say anything about it to anyone, but we try to help everyone.
This afternoon, we received a call from Wenum. Another is coming. She appears to be a 67-year-old lady named Mrs. Heymans, and she is the mother of the famous pilot,* who flew to the Indies and back. She’s a lovely, courageous lady, very religious, the first one we’ve had who keeps kosher. We can only keep her with us for two days, and then she goes to House #2. She would like to stay here, but that cannot be done.
SUNDAY, OCTOBER 4, 1942—Today, the pastor gave a grave sermon about loving your neighbor. I certainly don’t hate the others, but it is impossible for me to love those who embrace this regime. The sorrow they bring to everyone is so infinitely great that I cannot extend love to them. Would Christ really ask that of us? I do not believe so. We have been very lucky with our guests. They are such nice, well-educated people. Ger and Siny were here the whole day with baby Marja. It was a fine dinner with a very nice bottle of wine from a guest in House #1. Another new guest arrived today.
MONDAY, OCTOBER 12, 1942—We got another house. This is House #4, and it is already occupied. We will try to lease another one as well; there is still an enormous demand.
MONDAY, OCTOBER 19, 1942—I was too busy for a few days to write. I went to Amsterdam on Saturday and Sunday. I had to deliver some messages on behalf of several people, and I tried to obtain funds for some of our visitors who are completely penniless. Many Jews are still walking around the city, of course mainly in the Jewish Quarter. They look so awfully sad. There is not much in the future for these miserable souls. The way they’ve been treated is indescribable. Now people as old as 90 are being hauled away. I heard about an 88-year old woman in Rotterdam who was dragged out of her bed at four in the morning, and made to sit for 28 hours on a chair in a warehouse. Luckily, she had an Aryan daughter-in-law who was able to free her. It’s impossible to understand how they come up with these regulations. If you start to think about it seriously, it’s as if you can’t breathe anymore.
SATURDAY, OCTOBER 24, 1942—Luckily we have good sources who informed us that tomorrow they will start searching farm houses around here for rye and also for Jews. God grant us that nobody will be betrayed, and all Jews we have in our care will be safe. Oh, when shall we be free again, and when will these people be able to walk around freely once more? It can be so oppressive. I’m not concerned for myself, but for all these people.
You get the feeling that something is in the air; everyone seems to be excitedly anticipating change; many believe it will be coming in November. I doubt that it will come so soon. Even if we suffer terrible cold and hunger this winter, I would accept it to be rid of this constant terror. You have to always check behind you, be vigilant because betrayal can come from anywhere. We aren’t used to that. We used to be able to share our opinions freely, to protest when protest was needed, and now we are paralyzed.
Ger is coming—maybe he has something to tell us at this late hour; if it is good news, we won’t have to suffer through such anxiety.
It remains the same, the police will perform so-called house searches tomorrow, ask about Jews but find nothing. It has been organized so wonderfully well, if it were up to them they would not find a single Jew. And it should not happen. I would rather be taken along myself, than that one Jew will be caught. . . .
In house #1 there are seven; in #2 there are six; in house #3 there are six; in house #4, two; and with us here another two. They all have to be saved.
Tomorrow is my birthday. This is no time to celebrate, but one shouldn’t let a day like that go unnoticed. Miek has been asked to preach the youth sermon.
MONDAY, OCTOBER 26, 1942—Had a busy day yesterday, with many visitors, received many bouquets of flowers. From house #1, I received a book, from house #2, a cake. At house #3 they did not know it was my birthday, and they felt bad about it. I received a wonderful book about Dutch landscapes from our temporary houseguests. They wrote a wonderful poem to go with it. I wonder sometimes; these people put me on such a pedestal—won’t I fall off of it?
Miek’s sermon was very good. We created a hiding place behind the wall of our clothes closet for our temporary houseguests to flee to, if necessary. You never know what may happen. Today there was a very nervous mood all over. Nobody knows when those folks are coming to search the village and surroundings. The houses have been informed and everybody remains inside, and I hope that they will remain calm.
Ger was here at 10 o’clock. Police are doing a so-called search, but not really. They come to the door and ask, “Are there any Jews here?” When someone says, No, they leave. We have another guest, a brother of Jo Juda,* a quiet boy. We hope to sleep well; it’s been so emotional.
MEIJER EMMERIK, DIAMOND CUTTER, AMSTERDAM
IN LATE OCTOBER,* I arranged that Maxie would be admitted the Nederlands Israëlitisch Ziekenhuis,* because he had grown worse at the Maria-Paviljoen, and would get specialist treatment at the N.I.Z. After that, I immediately got in touch with a lawyer, Mr. Kastein from the Keizersgracht, who did everything he could to find out where Sam* had been taken, but it all proved useless.
ELISABETH VAN LOHUIZEN, GENERAL STORE OWNER, EPE
MONDAY, NOVEMBER 2, 1942—We have leased Duiveland for another six months for 100 guilders a month. The whole group from Blauwvoet will go there on Thursday. Little Idwo, where we planned to send the bothersome ladies from Idwo, is not habitable, so now they will have to go to Blauwvoet. I heard more stories from Amsterdam yesterday. A twelve-week-old baby lay in its cradle in an empty house; later, he was taken from there. Mothers (Jewish) are forced to leave their children behind as foundlings. On Saturday, Wim Leesink, who is an acquaintance of Miek, Frits, and Bram, was here to speak with me. He asked if we could hide Bram’s parents. Miek will go to Amsterdam tomorrow to organize everything. You want to stop all the time, but when they ask, you cannot refuse. . . . We now have five houses and many residents.
SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 22, 1942—After moving some people around, there’s now a good mood in the houses. We have had Jewish people in our own home for the last three months, too, the most recent were here for five and a half weeks. Tomorrow another one is coming.
This week Het Parool* came again. I have great respect for those men who continue to put out this paper in these times. . . . In this issue was an important article that I will copy here:
“While we know that the Jews are being removed from their houses, and their property is plundered, and they often suffer a horrible treatment, the following article appeared in the Hamburger Fremdenblatt dated July 24:
It is reported from Amsterdam that Dutch citizens act like beasts toward the Jews. As a result the Jews approached the German Wehrmacht, requesting that they protect them. The Wehrmacht has, in spite of their eternal enmity, taken the Jews under their protection and transported them at their own request to Germany, where they will be able to perform their trades safely. In a show of gratitude for this assistance, the Jews have made the contents of their homes and jewelry available to homeless families in Germany, who have been made homeless by English pilots.”
No comment required.
MEIJER EMMERIK, DIAMOND CUTTER, AMSTERDAM
ON NOVEMBER 21,* Lena received a letter from Sam* from Camp Amersfoort dated November 5, from which we ascertained that he’d been detained from October 28 to November 2 and then, without any questioning, sent to Camp Amersfoort. We all felt so desperate; how was such a thing possible?
What made it worse was that this camp is the most notorious for sadism. I immediately informed my lawyer of these facts but he said that, in that case, there was absolutely nothing he could do for him. He said I have to wait until he is released. Should he be sent to Camp Westerbork, the camp from which they send everyone to Poland, then another attempt could be made to help him. . . .
I decided to make some inquiries to find out whether anything could actually be done to get him released. That was how I learned that I might be able to get him freed in exchange for industrial diamonds. . . . Only the Germans are capable of thinking up such a scheme. I don’t blame anyone for attempting to save their lives in this way, but I certainly didn’t want to do it. Then I spoke to Lena and shared what I had learned. I told her that I’d been informed that Sam could be saved in this way, but that it wasn’t a sure thing. I also shared my point of view. She insisted that if this was possible, that I must; she was willing to do whatever it took to get Sam released.
INGE JANSEN, HOUSEWIFE, THE HAGUE
MONDAY DECEMBER 14, 1942—Adriaan has managed to arrange for the requisition of the house at Handelstraat 17 for us, and I’m so very happy about it! The Hochberg case is also currently being addressed by the S.D. and there is a good chance that the young Jewish boy, David,* will rescind his claim on the property. What a relief all that will be!
ELISABETH VAN LOHUIZEN, GENERAL STORE OWNER, EPE
SUNDAY, DECEMBER 6, 1942—Oh, I just wish that we were free already, so that the Jews would not feel hunted like animals. In most of the big cities, all of the Jews are gone. Where to and how? You dare not really think about what has happened, otherwise you just can’t really live anymore. It is a kind of horrifying, crazy nightmare or a horror novel. Today, the military police came to search a house where Jews were hidden, according to rumors. For a while, we felt extremely anxious for all our people. Late last night, another couple came to #4; we can now only accommodate a few more. At #1 are seven Jews; at #2, eight; at #3, five; at #4 six adults and a child; at #5, nine and a child. That is 35 total; it is a great responsibility.
FRIDAY, DECEMBER 25, CHRISTMAS DAY, 1942—I was in Emst this morning, where Miek gave a wonderful sermon. She is so much calmer in her speaking and less dependent on the paper. After the Amen, I sang, “Honor to God.” There is a peculiar charm in hearing your own child preach like that.
The weather was cold, foggy but until now, rather mild. Yesterday we received flowers from house #4 and #5 as well as from Ad, Irma and Leni. Today I got a beautiful book from Marte and Hans and a rug from the Van Gelders. Fietje de Vries went to Ger and Siny these last three days; we invited Fietje de Jong and Leni for dinner. Decorated the rooms, a red tablecloth for the table, and candles. You could really tell how much they enjoyed that. I felt again that we have made the right choice to act as we have and to support people as we do.
Henk stayed with us this week, and he tried to warn me, to encourage me to stop. I do not agree with him. Talking does not help; you have to do something, if you really want to be of some help to all of the people in hiding. We will be careful, but we will continue.
11
“If only there were more places for these poor people”
Elisabeth van Lohuizen
Courtesy NIOD archive, Elisabeth van Lohuizen diary folder
The first 100 to 150 pages of Elisabeth van Lohuizen’s 900-page diary, written in six notebooks of varying sizes, contain a lot of material that would be of great interest to a historian of wartime economics. In tiny penmanship that rarely bleeds across the lines, she describes almost daily the incremental adjustments she and her family business were forced to make due to war rationing. As the owner of a general store in the center of town, she had to be particularly conscious of constantly changing prices of staples, shoes, winter clothes, and the shortages of vegetables and meat.
“Butter, fat and margarine on ration coupons,” she noted, for example, in July 1940. “The sale of flour, rice, pudding, macaroni, vermicelli etc. forbidden for a week. Butter 250 gr. per person per 14 days and another 250-gr. fat in that period.” In October, she predicted that the winter would be particularly harsh because “everything but everything” was on the ration list. “Eggs also rationed, 1 per week, prices prescribed, highest 8 cent. A prohibition on the sale of pulses for 14 days, so for the time being no beans.”
The contents of her diary take a sudden and remarkable turn in the summer of 1942, when Elisabeth, known to her friends as Bets, starts to write about “visitors and guests” from Amsterdam. Her first few references are oblique, but within a few days it becomes entirely clear that she is hiding Jews.
It was around this time that she, a local school headmaster, Derk Hendriks, and a local postman, Tiemen Jonker, decided to help as many people as they possibly could to escape Nazi deportations. Their small resistance organization would later get a name, Het Driemanschap, or The Triad. Elisabeth van Lohuizen, Hendriks, and Jonker were the three founders of the group, but in fact The Triad relied on a fairly large network of family members and friends—who would end up saving the lives of scores of people.
The first time Elisabeth mentioned aiding a visitor in her diary was on March 5, 1942. “For a week, we’ve had an 8-year-old boy from Rotterdam staying with us,” she wrote, “at the request of Miek,” her daughter. It’s unclear from the diary whether the child was Jewish or an orphan of the bombings, a child who had been placed because his parents were in the resistance or one who had an entirely different story.
Elisabeth wrote that it was “bitterly cold” that week, with icy rain. She noted cold shortages, Indonesia’s capitulation, and military planes roaring overhead—but apart from noting the boy’s arrival, she recorded nothing else about him. Throughout the first months of her involvement with the resistance, Elisabeth put very little into writing, understandably. So the moments when she mentions “a visitor” jump off the page like a spark.
“We collected a family (a wife and two children) from the train station and took them to three families on different farms,” she wrote on July 10, 1942, but did not specify if these were Jewish guests. Three days later—the same week the first Westerbork transports to Auschwitz departed—she observed that “several people are hiding Jews,” without mentioning doing so herself. Then she recorded that “someone has arrived” at Ger and Siny’s house and specified that the person didn’t have a “J” in their identity card. This “J” is the only clue. Was the “J” absent because the person had falsified papers? Or because she wasn’t Jewish?
What we do know for sure is that a fifteen-year-old boy named Lou van Beets, “with a very dark Jewish appearance” but dyed blond hair, showed up in Epe in July. A local farmer named Proper took him in temporarily, allowing him to stay in his empty vacation house in the woods.
The boy had run from Amsterdam when both of his parents had been deported. Proper didn’t think the boy would be safe with him for long, since holiday-goers would soon be arriving in nearby cottages. So he asked Rev. Willem Frederik Hendrik Ter Braak, pastor of the local Reformed Church, what to do. Ter Braak suggested he reach out to Derk Hendriks, the headmaster who’d recently retired and moved to a quiet spot in the woods.
Els Hendriks, Derk’s daughter, remembered that night, and later wrote about it in an unpublished memoir. “When he arrived that evening in our home he was extremely upset,” she recalled. “All fear, tensions and uncertainty had overcome him completely. At first we let him talk, relate what his family had experienced, how unsafe, uncertain and abandoned he felt.” It was the first time that she and her family grasped the situation fully, she wrote. “We appreciated it so much more that our house stood at a quiet spot, surrounded by tall wood walls and garden doors facing away from the road.”1
The “visitors” kept arriving in the town, most likely because it was in a secluded location with lots of surrounding forests, but also, perhaps, because word had got out in resistance circles that there were helpers in Epe.
By August, Het Driemanschap was preparing for more guests. “There is a lot of work to be done,” she wrote. “If only there were more places for those poor people.”
Het Driemanschap leased its first house, Larikshof, in September. “A very roomy villa in the center of fir woods that have grown so tall that one cannot even see the house from the public sand road,” wrote Els Hendriks. Eight people moved in. The Van Lohuizens took people into their own home near Pelzer Park, while they tried to find a second house to lease. That would be Idwo. By October, they’d leased a third, Blauwvoet, “a wooden summer residence.”2
