We set off northwards over the railway bridge, via Isaac Everts Avenue in the Gulden Bodem suburb, where we ‘slept’ for one night. Onward the next morning to Rozendaal, where our anxious parents found an open door at 36 Ringallee, where the family Hachman, an elderly couple with their daughter welcomed us. It was only a small house and all of a sudden a family of three was extended to twelve. After a week of arduous living, solving problems and conflicts, often tolerance fraying at the edges, Dad came ‘home’ with the buzz that he succeeded in acquiring new accommodation, with the help of his cousins Jan and Gina Pannekoek. They lived in Wort Rheden on a small farm some seven or eight kilometres from Arnhem, alongthe main road to Zutphen.
The Pannekoek family were able to make an arrangement with a couple of widowed ladies across the road who were willing to give us a room in their spacious villa –‘De Hut’- on 66 Arnhemsche Straatweg.
It seemed ‘tongue-in-cheek’ to have called this mansion with the beautiful thatched roof a ‘hut’.
The owner Baroness von Weiler van Haeften, a very sweet lady and her friend the stately Mrs. Reyers, made us feel very welcome. Eight of us were accommodated in the large front room on the east side, while Uncle Frank was given a small room upstairs in the attic.
Another family (Methorst) from Arnhem had already been taken in- a notary with his wife, child and a two-months-old baby. Here we were, stuck together with complete strangers, working class and middle class city slickers, rubbing shoulders with nobility in rual countryside, surrounded by farmers.
The Pannekoek family opposite lived in a cute little house that was completely covered with rampant ivy, and you would almost expect Hansel and Gretel to appear any minute.
The older Pannekoek (literally meaning Pancake) was a strong, plumpish man. His wife Gina wore always her black, going grey hair in a bun. The younger Pannekoek’s, Jan and Dina, well into their twenties, were still single and at home on the farm.
We spent a lot of time in their yard, helping in cleaning the manure from the horse stable with the pitchfork.
THURSDAY OCT. 5th
Woke up 7.00 am. Wash and shave at the pump, at Gina’s place (across the road). After a good breakfast, gone to 36 Ringallee to pick up the remainder of our possessions, potatoes, vegetables and some small goods. It is magnificent warm weather, an “Indian summer”. Allied fighter planes and bombers, flying in all directions, cloud the cloudless sky. At noon we drink a mug of coffee. Now and then, one can hear the artillery in the distance. The owner of the house, the dowager widow Mrs.von Weiler van Poelwijk van Haeften, is a pleasant hostess, friendly and loyal, no comparison to the narrow-mindedness in our former residence. Having one room in the front of the villa, we have a perfect view on the main road, seeing it used by many war vehicles and many refugees are still passing by, north bound.
In the afternoon, a formation of six fighter planes attack several targets around our present house with rockets, many victims among the civil population. Like yesterday, also today, some of the bombs fall in the centre of the village causing much damage. With the last attack, the projectiles were fired right above our heads in southern direction, which caused a hellish spectacle, that made the residents ran for cover to the cellar. Towards the evening it became quiet and we hope it stays that way, so we can have a good night.