Marie and Jan were used to wake up every morning with the sound of the alarm clock, but on Friday 10th May 1940 the ringing sounds were not needed.
Very early that morning, the whole neighbourhood woke up together, at once, when an enormous bang shattered windows all over the place. Our shop windows blew in too, consternation and ‘what has happened’ on everyone’s lips.
A couple hours earlier while most of the population were asleep; four armoured trains transgressed the German-Dutch border.
Overwhelmed and shocked by the brutal invasion, the Dutch defence tried frantically to stop, or at least hinder, the advance of the aggressors by blowing up the bridge over the Rhine.
At the same time large squadrons from the Luftwaffe flew over the border. The invasion was a fact and now we were at war and so unprepared.

A morning of a thumping hearts, of broken glass, cleaning up, boarding up and listening and waiting to any news, with the phone as the main connection to the outside world. It needs no explanation that we were fearful of what lays ahead and that school was given a miss.
Towards noon all of a sudden Mum was confronted with a stack of unexpected customers in her shop, faces blackened and with a total lack of manners.
Poor Mum she raised her voice to stop the advancing storm troopers, ‘you can’t do that’, but she was roughly pushed aside, while the soldiers swearing in German emptied the shelves and loaded themselves with free cigarettes and cigars.