Chapter 2: Holland

Together they planned to travel 120 kilometres north to Amsterdam.

"What do we need," Gerry asked.

Lien took a pencil and started writing, "We need water, food, spare underwear, change of clothes, roadmap, candles, blankets. What else?"

"Something to carry all this on the back of the bicycle," Gerry suggested.

"Yes, I know. I saw it yesterday."

Lien hurried down the small hall to the cupboard under the stairs and returned with a large haversack.

"Look what I found? A repair kit for the bicycle tubes."

They gathered their cargo into a pile on the kitchen floor and together they packed the haversack. Gerry took the pistol from his overcoat and stuffed it and the repair kit into a small side pocket of the haversack. They rolled the two blankets together and Gerry roped them to the haversack. He went to the bicycle in the hallway and pumped the tyres.

When they were almost ready to depart Lien gathered small keepsakes and photographs, which she placed into a large leather handbag with a strap that looped over her shoulder. And she took her douche with her.

They donned heavy overcoats and with gloves, scarves and Russian style fur hats they were ready. On the porch Lien locked the front door Gerry looked away quickly knowing the futility of the action.

Lien wheeled the bicycle into the street and Gerry followed lugging the loaded haversack; holding the bicycle steady she watched while he roped the haversack to the rack above the rear wheel.

They were forced to walk the bicycle because of the wreckage that littered the streets, occasionally they encountered bodies burned or broken and distorted. They heard a blood curdling scream and Gerry cursed the fact that he had left the pistol in the haversack.

"You steer the bicycle while I get the pistol."

Quickly he opened the side pocket on the haversack and extracting the pistol he shoved it into his pocket.

A man ran from a partly destroyed house about one hundred metres in front of them, screaming, yelling he ran toward them his face distorted with madness. Then strangely he stopped and he continued screaming as he sank to his knees.

"Lien keep walking straight ahead, don't look at him."

As they passed him Lien glanced across and could see that his hands and his back were badly burned, the hair burned from his head. His head was bowed as they walked past him and he seemed not to notice their passing.

Lien was choked with sorrow and tears of compassion tumbled down her cheeks. She wanted to help but knew with bitterness that there was nothing that she could do to relieve his suffering. She clung tightly to the handlebars, his terrible suffering made her feel faint.

A kilometre further on Gerry returned the pistol to the haversack and then took control of the bicycle, steering it with one hand, his other hand gripped Lien firmly around the shoulders; she took comfort from being held tightly.

They continued walking and coming to the main northern road they sat and rested. Many refugees trudged past them heading toward the open countryside. Many of them were carrying large loads on their backs, some pushed barrows that seemed to be grossly overloaded, but some stumbled on, their injuries testing their endurance.

Gerry decided that they could now make better time riding the bicycle so he sat astride it and helped Lien get seated on the bar, and then he pedalled, wobbling until he adjusted to the weight and finally gathering speed he found a rhythm that he could maintain.

They had travelled five kilometres when they encountered a German checkpoint, he was thankful that he didn't have the pistol on his person when a soldier waved them to the side of the road where about a hundred refugees were gathered. When they dismounted he quickly searched them, he barely looked at the haversack and he was satisfied when Gerry explained in his halting German that it contained food and water.

He passed them further up the road to where two officers sat at a portable table and refugees queued waiting. Finally it was their turn and the German officer asked them for identification. Lien did not understand and turned to Gerry whose knowledge of German was limited.

He asked the soldier to speak slowly and when he understood what he wanted, Gerry explained that they were refugees from the bombing of Rotterdam.

'I wonder what this soldier is thinking, identification papers after what we've lived through, this is bullshit, ' Gerry thought.

The soldier told them slowly, "We cannot allow you to travel without identification. Wait over there."

They found themselves waiting with a number of others who also had no identification. They didn't talk amongst themselves instead they waited mutely and withdrawn, fear and dejection showing clearly on their faces. There was one refugee who seemed eager to talk with them.

"Be careful with your bicycle," the refugee said, "there are thieves all along the road, yesterday one of them tried to steal mine and not two hours later I saw him selling a bicycle for thirty guilders that's twice as much as a second hand bicycle costs. So make sure that you guard your bicycle unless you want to walk. If they steal your bicycle with your haversack then you'll have nothing left."

It took another hour of questions and pleading but finally an officer produced a temporary travel document, a yellow piece of card properly signed and stamped. It was the mentality of the German forces that everything had to be documented. Gerry was pleased to read that they had been permitted to travel to Amsterdam.

They set off travelling north again and around two in the afternoon Gerry was exhausted.

"Let's stop for a rest and something to eat," Gerry said as they came to an intersection. Lien quickly agreed and finding a grassy spot at the edge of the road Gerry braked to a stop. Gerry untied the haversack from the rack and leaving the bicycle on its side he sat quietly while Lien quickly retrieved food and water from the haversack.

"We shouldn't eat all of our food, we must keep some in reserve. Let's try and find a farmhouse before it gets dark and see if the farmer will sell us food and give us a place to sleep," Gerry said.

"I agree, will we tell them that we're brother and sister, aunt and nephew or husband and wife?"

Lien was smiling, she was jesting but Gerry was not looking when she asked the question but his head swung around just catching the smile.

"You're really asking which explanation will get us a bed together aren't you?"

"Hmm, maybe."

"You sexy woman," Gerry pulled her close and kissed her tenderly.

'What strangeness that we can joke in times like this, ' she thought.

They rested for another thirty minutes but before they started off Lien offered to peddle. Gerry would not consider it but he took his coat off and tied it around the bar to ease Lien's discomfort. They began travelling north again.

They passed many hundreds of people fleeing from Rotterdam and Gerry wondered about their destinations. German army trucks passed them, streaming into Rotterdam loaded with troops and supplies. Passing through small villages they gave up looking for food to buy. The many refugees who had passed this way before them had exhausted the stocks of food in the small shops and some storeowners wanted to charge them for water.

At a major intersection Gerry stopped and they dismounted.

"Lien I think that we should move off this main road and go west that way we might find a farmer who will shelter us tonight. With the number of people on the road I don't think we'll have a chance to find a place to sleep if we keep going north. Many of these refugees would have been turned down before us."

"Okay, let's go west then; I think that we might have to sleep in the open."

"I hope not."

They peddled west for about six kilometres passing just a few refugees. The sun was low in the sky when they found a farmhouse close to the road. Lien opened the farmhouse gate and as Gerry wheeled the bicycle through a dog emerging from a nearby ditch charged at Lien's leg. Gerry lashed out and his boot caught the dog in the ribcage, diverting it away. It appeared uninjured but it was snarling and growling furiously from thirty feet away. Another dog rounded the farmhouse and charged towards them. Emboldened by its partner the first dog charged again but Gerry's boot found its mark again.

The two dogs held them at bay barking ferociously until an overweight woman emerged from the farmhouse and picking up a stick she sent the dogs to a shed where she locked them in.

"I'm sorry for my bad mannered dogs," she said as she walked toward them, "we don't get many visitors out here. Can I help you with something?"

"Hello, my name is Helena Linderstrom from Rotterdam, my house was bombed and this is my nephew Gerard Raymer from Amsterdam who was staying with me. We are trying to get to Amsterdam..." Lien choked, her voice broke and the farmer's woman put her arm around her shoulders.

"I'm so sorry, come into the house. The radio station has stopped transmitting and we haven't been able to hear what has happened."

They followed, Gerry bringing up the rear. He parked the bicycle near the door and followed them into the small house.

"I'm Katrien Cooyman, my husband Koos is still in the fields; he should be home shortly. Would you like coffee?"

While Katrien busied herself preparing coffee she asked, "How has Rotterdam survived after the bombing?"

Gerry remained silent and let Lien respond, "It's awful, we did not see a building that was free from damage, there's no water, gas or electricity, we were forced to leave. We came here to see if we could buy some food and perhaps find a place to sleep tonight."

"Oh I see, food that's no problem but staying tonight that's for my husband to decide."

They sat quietly discussing the German invasion and how treacherous they thought the German's were for invading a neutral country.

They heard clogs stomping on the path outside the door, then they heard them being dropped just inside the door and a man with a large girth entered the room wearing house shoes.

As Katrien explained the presence of the two strangers, Gerry rose and stood quietly observing the rough weather beaten face and overweight Koos Cooyman.

As was the patriarchal custom in Holland he turned first to Gerry, "So you're Gerard Raymer." He proffered his hand and Gerry was surprised at the strength of his handshake.

"And you're Helena," he did not proffer his hand, instead to his wife; "Coffee." It was an order and Katrien hurried away, like a good submissive wife should, to prepare coffee for her husband.

"Katrien tells me that you need somewhere to sleep?" He directed the question to Gerry.

"Yes Mijnheer Cooyman." Gerry answered respectfully using 'Mister', the correct salutation for a stranger.

"And what is your relationship to Helena," he asked.

Sensing a trap Gerry replied truthfully, "She's my Tante."

"So you'll need two rooms then?"

"If that's possible Mijnheer."

"Well I only have one spare room and the Good Lord would not like me to put temptation in your path."

Lien had listened intently; content with Gerry's handling of the farmer but when he mentioned the Good Lord and temptation she knew that she was in the house of religious zealots. Her hope for a place to sleep took a dive.

"Mijnheer, if my Tante could use that room I will gladly sleep in the barn. She has lost everything in the air attack and I'm most concerned for her comfort."

Katrien who had been sitting submissively knew that her husband would agree to Gerry's arrangements so she rose and started preparing the evening meal. Lien quickly followed and offered to help her.

The farmer was not very vocal but Gerry did learn that his life revolved around his farm and his church, one of a number of very small sects of Christianity that blossomed in poverty stricken Holland. Briefly, he wondered where their children were.

After the evening meal Gerry was plied with jenever, a type of gin. He did not try to match Koos knowing that tomorrow he would be hard at work again pedalling the overloaded bicycle. Lien was not asked if she would like a drink of gin and nor was Katrien.

Soon Koos Cooyman was falling asleep between drinks and Katrien took the flask of gin away and gently suggested that Koos should retire. Without bidding them good night he rose unsteadily from his chair and meandered off to his bedroom.

Katrien took an eider down quilt and led Gerry with the bicycle to the barn she dropped the quilt on a bale of hay and as she turned to leave she abruptly wished him a good night's sleep. Glad that they had brought two additional blankets he made a nest with the loose hay that he scooped from the floor and with a blanket under him over the hay, a blanket and the eiderdown quilt on top, his bed was complete. He slipped into it fully clothed; he was soon warm and quickly fell asleep.

The noise of the barn door opening stirred Gerry from sleep, it was dark, he had no idea what time it was when one of the dogs that had welcomed them yesterday came sniffing around his nest. He heard the clomping of the farmer's clogs and the light of a lantern came from around the stall.

"Are you awake youngster," Koos Cooyman inquired.

"Good morning Mijnheer," replied Gerry as he climbed out of his makeshift bed.

In the dim reflected light from the lantern he rolled the blankets and folded the quilt; with them under his arms he moved out of the stall and saw that the farmer was preparing for his new day.

"Go to the kitchen youngster, Katrina has breakfast for you."

"I would like to pay you for giving us a place to sleep and I would like to buy some bread and cheese from you."

"You won't be paying for anything, just tell Katrien what you want. We Dutchmen have to stick together; those squareheads won't rule us, you wait and see. I have to work now so I wish you safe travel."

With that terse farewell, Koos Cooyman left the barn to work the fields, Gerry roped the blankets onto the cycle, at the house he rested the bicycle against the wall, he slipped a guilder into the folds of the quilt. As he entered the kitchen Katrien took the quilt from him.

"Thanks to you, Vrouw Cooyman, I slept warmly." Gerry respectfully addressed Katrien.

"Gerry my name is Katrien, seat yourself over there next to Helena while I serve breakfast."

After breakfast Gerry was packing water into the haversack when Lien passed him a parcel of food that Katrien had given her. With the bicycle ready Lien fetched Katrien and they hugged and then walked arm in arm to the farm gate.

"Katrien, thank you for your hospitality." Gerry said.

"May God bless both of you and protect you from harm." Katrien smiled at them.

They mounted the bicycle and pedalled away. Lien waved and Katrien waved at them until they were out of sight in the soft light of dawn.

Lien sitting on the bar turned back to Gerry, "Katrien is a good woman, she has a good heart but she hates her husband."

"Hates her husband, why?"

"She told me that they can't have children and her husband blames her. He treats her badly. There's no love in that household."

"She told you all that."

"Yes they're the things that women talk about."

"Oh I see," Gerry replied but he didn't really understand.

Reaching the intersection with the northern road again they were surprised to see that many more people going north.

Heading north again they had travelled ten kilometres when they were stopped by another German checkpoint. They queued for thirty minutes waiting to have their travel documents stamped.

The German soldier was meticulous and checked every detail with them, then recorded their responses in his journal. He checked the bicycle and was satisfied when Gerry told him that the haversack held water and food. His arrogant abruptness disturbed Gerry but he held back and answered his questions briefly but politely.

They mounted the bicycle and pedalled until midday when Gerry felt the fatigue dragging on his leg muscles. They passed a field that had a stand of trees running parallel with the road and Gerry braked hard stopping quickly and Lien dismounted. She saw the strain on Gerry's face and held the bicycle as he rubbed his leg muscles.

"Let's have lunch my darling, we'll eat in amongst the trees." Lien said.

"Yes let's do that; I'm really hungry."

Gerry undid the rope holding the haversack and hiding the bicycle in the grass near the low fence they climbed over it. He spread a blanket while Lien searched through the food parcel that Katrien had given them. To her delight she found boiled pork, cheese and two small loaves of bread. Spreading them out on the blanket they ate enjoying Katrien's cooking. They both drank from the one water bottle and soon Gerry was feeling tired. He stretched out and resting his head on the edge of the blanket he fell asleep.

Lien repacked the haversack and then she sat next to Gerry, 'A short sleep, I hope that it will refresh you.' After a few minutes she stretched out alongside him, 'Just a little snooze, ' and soon she too was sleeping.

Gerry snapped awake when he heard a male voice call out, "There's a bicycle in the grass, here come and look."

He crawled to the haversack and retrieved the pistol, shaking Lien awake he whispered, "Your bicycle's been found, be quiet and stay here." Getting to his feet he hid the pistol in his overcoat pocket and walked quickly to the fence.

"Take your hands off that bicycle."

"We found it, it's ours now," said the younger of the two men leaning over the fence daring Gerry to take action. Gerry knew from his accent that he came from the nearby farming districts and that they were probably thieves dealing in stolen bicycles.

Knowing that if they both mounted the bicycle and pedalled off that he was too tired to chase them; so pulling the pistol from his pocket he took aim at them,

"I told you to take your hands off the bicycle."

The anger that flowed from Gerry when he pointed the pistol at them, frightened them, and the bicycle was quickly dropped into the grass. The older man moved away, moving sideways, Gerry saw him calculating the height of the fence and he knew that he was in for a fight for possession of the bicycle.

"Don't worry about him, he won't shoot us," the older man said.

Gerry kept the pistol aimed at the younger of the two, who was still leaning over the fence too frightened to move, not believing his accomplice.

The older man hurdled the fence and running swiftly disappeared into the trees.

Quickly Gerry threw a headlock on the man holding onto the fence and held the pistol to his forehead, through clenched teeth he said, "Climb over," and wrenched on his neck.

He climbed awkwardly but made it over. Gerry could hear his accomplice crunching through the undergrowth around the trees and knew that he was about to be attacked from behind when a scream came from among the trees. He heard a thud like a bag of wet sand hitting the ground.

Alarmed he yelled, "Lien, are you all right?"

There was no response so he released his captive and poking him harshly in the ribs with the pistol he commanded him, "Walk."

Not thirty metres away from where they had eaten Lien stood over the older man leaning on a thick short branch that she had used to knock him unconscious. Gerry glanced at the wound on his head, there was much blood flowing past his ear and onto the ground. Lien's face was ghostly white with shock.

He advanced on his captive thrusting the pistol to the back of his head, "I ought to kill you."

"No. No don't hurt me," he yelled as realised that he might die. His fear caused him to void his bladder and he threw himself to the ground begging for his life.

"Get over here alongside your friend on the ground, stretch your arms and legs out."

When he was fully spreadeagled on the ground Gerry keeping his eyes on him, walked to Lien, "You're not hurt?"

"No, just frightened," she muttered.

"Take this pistol and keep it pointed at him. If he moves shoot him."

He knew that Lien couldn't shoot him but when he was satisfied that she was in control he dashed to the haversack and retrieved his small knife. Returning to Lien he moved her to one side and keeping out of her line of fire he knelt beside the unconscious man, he reached inside the bottom of his trouser leg with the knife and pushed it through the cloth then he slit the cloth up to his thigh he repeated his slitting until he had two lengths of coarse cloth which he parted from the trousers.

"Put your hands behind your back," said to his spreadeagled captive.

He knelt and tightly bound his hands together with the strips of heavy work trousers; then he kicked his ankle, "Put you feet together."

After he was satisfied that his captive was securely trussed up he moved to his accomplice. The wound to his head had stopped bleeding profusely, now the blood was just trickling across his face. He felt a firm pulse in his neck and decided that he would live.

Taking the pistol from Lien he guided her to their eating spot and repacked the haversack.

His captive realising that they were about to leave shouted, "You can't leave us here. We might die."

"When your friend regains consciousness he can free you. I want you to remember that you can't steal bicycles and make profits from the refugees. I could have killed both of you."

Gerry pointed the pistol well away and fired into the ground. He heard Lien stifle a scream.

'Now I'm sure that you will remember, ' he thought.

"You can't leave us like this," the trussed captive blubbered.

Gerry ignored him and hefting the haversack he guided Lien to the fence.

They mounted the bicycle and continued pedalling north. Gerry leaned close to Lien, "Remind me not to offend you when you have a big stick in your hands."

Lien giggled, "I was so frightened for you, I just knew that I couldn't let them hurt you and they were not going hurt you if I knocked him out. The worst part was that I thought that I had killed him. I really hit him hard."

It was now late in the afternoon and Gerry was concerned about their progress for the day. He had estimated that they were about half way to Amsterdam but the next signpost indicated that they still had sixty-five kilometres to go. He kept pedalling until the sun started to set when they entered the small town of Alphen.

In the town centre he saw an inn and Gerry pulled into the front courtyard.

"I'm fearful that someone might steal the bicycle if we leave it here. I want to find out if they have a room for us, don't worry my father gave me money and I'll pay for it but would you stay here and guard the bicycle, while I go and see the hotelhouder, the innkeeper."

Lien waited patiently for about fifteen minutes when Gerry returned. He was smiling broadly.

"Shh! Not too loudly but we're signed in as Mijnheer and Mevrouw Raymer. Just think a good meal, a bath and a comfortable bed for two. It cost me three guilders. I paid two guilders for the room and meals, and a guilder bribe for the innkeeper. He will look the other way; he's a very understanding man.