One night, around three in the morning, the mill inhabitants woke up to a lot of noise. A forty-strong German police contingent encircled the mill. They hunted everyone down and gathered them outside the mill. Continue reading Arrested at the Mill of Rahimont
Starting in November 1944 prisoners from the main-camp Flossenbürg were transported to Saal, and a number of transports followed, including the one on the15th of February 1945 which brought Jan van Boeckel. Continue reading Ringberg Messerschmitt: Ring-Me
He sent it from a coded address to a friend who was also in hiding, but it never made its way to them until much later. It is a birthday letter for his two smallest siblings, my mother and her younger sister. But it is also a warning, a cryptic letter with a hidden message. My mother did not receive this letter until 1995, my grandma never saw it. Continue reading A dire warning…
And so when Jan does not show up in Haarlem, my grandpa writes to the Saint Leonard prison in Liege in June 1945, inquiring after his son. The Belgian authorities reply that the records have been destroyed and that they are unable to answer him. On the third of August 1945 a letter arrives on my grandmother’s doorstep. Continue reading Where is Jan?
Where should I begin this tale of adventure, idealism, survival, death and suffering? Maybe there is no beginning or end. There are snippets of information contained in registers, photographs, oral history, correspondence, maps, scientific research, testimonials, newspaper articles and interviews. Continue reading Reweaving the tapestry of a lost life
Later on I learnt that my uncle was indeed listed as NN, a ‘Nacht und Nebel’, prisoner who would disappear into darkness and mist never to be heard of again. In the case of the resistance fighter Jan van Boeckel they greatly succeeded. He is still a missing person. This storyline is my attempt to sabotage their succes. Continue reading Confronting tough truths
The logistics needed in the DP-camp were mind blowing, especially in the first year. In addition to receiving thousands of refugees, repatriating hundreds, and the day to day aspects, Kathryn Hulme and her team had to organise the ‘winterization’ in Wildflecken – the preparation for winter. Continue reading Kathryn Hulme – Managing transience
The Flossenbürg concentration camp itself is now a monument, although a few decennia back it was partly used as an industrial site. Along the perimeter there are homes of citizens on a terraced hill, which was part of the camp. Continue reading The book of names at Flossenbürg
Initially I went to Dachau as a gesture of respect to my uncle, who died when he was 22 years old at the hands of the Nazis in Germany. And I left Dachau with an incredible urge to find out how much really was known about his fate. That is the quest I am on at the moment. Continue reading From Holland to Bavaria: The quest starts at Dachau
…..The wooden arch at the camp entrance is gone but there is still a stone guardhouse. And there are still guards ….. Continue reading Visiting Wildflecken – in the footsteps of Kathryn Hulme
values are not universal Continue reading walls
It can get hot in Frankfurt. It can get so hot that the heat wraps around Continue reading “Endless summer in Frankfurt: open-air events”
A shipyard welder during the second world war, Kathryn Hulme joined the relief movement via the UNRRA (United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration) in Europe in 1945, after a few weeks training in France. Continue reading Kathryn Hulme working in a DP-camp near Frankfurt 1945 – 1949: Finding humanity in a homogeneous stream
Germany is intensely focussed on the large influx of refugees crossing its borders. It is challenging for the authorities to adjust to the high numbers and to deal with the xenophobic demonstrations and hate crimes taking place. But there is another side to the story. Recent … Continue reading Refugees, Germany and the rest of the world
Frankfurt is a green city and trees are an integral part of the landscape. I’ve already described the Palmengarten and the Botanical garden, which both have wonderful specimens, as do the big parks. Continue reading “Silent witnesses”
mogromo 