This is the first part of a very long letter my grandmother wrote to her friend Dien. It seems she believed the first two letters had not reached Dien so she tells about what happened to her before, during and after Operation Market Garden again.
Obviously, she did not know at the time that she had been caught up in a military operation called "Operation Market Garden" so she does not use the term. But this brave lady was certainly right in the thick of what we now know as Operation Market Garden
30 Jan. 1945Dearest Dien,
I received your letter on 23 Jan. I was upstairs. Miss – called: “There is someone for you.” I flew downstairs and immediately thought of you. I didn’t think you’d be here, it was too early in the day for that, but I felt it was something from you. The friar who brought it knew me instantly, but I didn’t know him. I was so enormously happy to hear from you. I had tried in every way I knew. Karel W. is in Zeeland with his family. I went to visit them and they told me there were people from Horst there. Of course I went there immediately. It was Louis M.. He promised me that he would go to Horst by car the day before Christmas and that he would give me a ride. I was waiting that Sunday, but he didn’t come. Later I heard he had not been given a permit. I was so disappointed, you can imagine.
I am so glad that you all made it out well. But it has been terrible, hasn’t it? Your letter dated 4 Sept. arrived. I answered it but I think you didn’t receive it anymore. Then you don’t know I don’t have a bicycle anymore. If I had one I would have come to Horst ages ago. Harry and Emma fled to I. just over a week before the invasion. Emma’s bicycle had been stolen so I lent her mine. I was afraid to use it anyway because the Germans were stealing them from everywhere. I hope I will get it back, it will be the only thing I own.
Have you not received my letter from Zeilberg? You don’t mention it in your letter. In any case I’ll tell you a little about what happened to us.
17 Sept. in the morning in church they suddenly started to shoot. The chaplain was just in the pulpit. He calmed the people and prayed with us. It stopped quite quickly. But during the high mass it really started. Several bombs fell. We were in the corridor. Thé R. came to fetch us. We stayed with them. Later we found in the hallway where I had stood a bullet hole right through my coat. That really made me laugh then.
The Germans were right in front of the house in the school. When the English flew over one of the Germans jumped into the sewer, only his legs were sticking out.
When the paratroopers came down we were so relieved. It was the most beautiful sight I have ever seen. But the Germans weren’t crazy. We stood in the hallway praying when they started to shoot again. It can’t have lasted longer than an hour. Then we were free. Soon enough I saw people cycling by with orange colours. There were dead and wounded everywhere. I shall never forget it. We helped carrying away the wounded. I saw a dead English soldier. Oh Dien, the wounded suffered so, it was terrible. There was one in front of our door, praying. We fetched the chaplain who administered the last sacraments. He died that night. I believe all we helped carry died. One dead soldier was right in front of our door.
That night we though we got away well, but we didn’t dare go to bed. There were 14 of us in the living room. The night was calm. So the next morning we went to church but not much later it started again. Shells fell and kept falling. That night the Germans came back from the Reichswald. Farms were set on fire. Hand grenades thrown in the basements. Many people were carried off. We haven’t heard from them since.
We live next to the Crutched Friars here, one of them is from Groesbeek. He came to ask us about his family, but we knew nothing. He got permission to go to Groesbeek to find out about his family. He found his two sisters and brother in law burned in the basement. He doesn’t know about his father yet.
We held out 12 days, then we fled. A shell fell right in front of the door. The flesh of the soldier was all over the R’s barn and all over the bushes. We hadn’t a window left in the house. I was just in the bathroom when I was called. Japie R. had little glass wounds.
On 29 Sept. we went to the friars in Mook. Madam fell there and broke her leg. We carried her to the basement there, where she stayed for 16 days.
I have not forgotten your birthday, I went to church. We could do that in Mook. Only we had to cover our ears because of the racket every now and then, but that was not dangerous. There were 50 tanks by the church and they would all start and shoot at the same time.
It is Wednesday now. It started to thaw, the streets are dirty. The master and I went to the soup kitchen together. Onion stew, it was good. We have been going to the soup kitchen for a week now. It’s quite good.
On Sunday 15 October we were put on English wagons and brought to Nederasselt. Madam and I in an ambulance. I was ill too. The next day to Nistelrode and from there to Uden where we still are. Madam is all better now. She goes to the hospital every day. It is not far from here. There are many people from Groesbeek there. In Uden there are over 500. The master and I go for long walks every day to keep warm. It is frightfully cold here. At five thirty we go and fetch madam, take a shower and around eight, half past eight we go to bed.
(end of part 1)
Clearly life in rural Holland after operation market garden was not what anyone would call normal. But a sense of relief at just being alive is clear in this letter.
The final part of this long letter about life after operation market garden will appear soon.
