Voor mijn grote held, mijn opa, Belgisch oud-strijder WO I

Opa

Op deze bijzondere dag ( 11 november 2018) wil ik graag het verhaal schrijven over mijn zeer geliefde opa.

Hij is geboren op 23 februari 1899 in Borgerhout bij Antwerpen en hij is 27 februari 1960 overleden. De doodsoorzaak was longontsteking met complicaties. Hij had tijdens de Eerste Wereldoorlog tijdens een gasaanval in de loopgraven een longbeschadiging opgelopen.

Bij het begin van de oorlog was mijn opa als 15-jarige, met zijn ouders vanuit België naar Londen gevlucht. Ze waren welgesteld en hadden de middelen om te vluchten. Mijn opa had in Londen een comfortabel leven kunnen leiden.

In die tijd hing Londen vol met posters om jonge mannen op te roepen dienst te nemen in het leger: “The army wants you!”

Omdat mijn opa nogal lang was voor zijn leeftijd, werd hij veelvuldig aangesproken en werd hem verweten dat hij anderen voor zijn land liet vechten. Opa vond dit erg vervelend en voelde zich schuldig. Hij ging naar een inschrijvingsbureau en loog over zijn leeftijd en zei dat hij 18 was. Aldus werd hij opgenomen in het leger en kwam bij de cavalerie. Hij had namelijk als niet onbemiddelde jongere al eerder leren paardrijden.

Als 16 jarige werd hij uitgezonden naar België en hij werd naar het front gestuurd. Bij zijn eerste opdracht werd hij verschrikkelijk bang en hij stuurde zijn paard de andere kant op, ver weg van het strijdgewoel. Dat kwam hem duur te staan. Hij werd aan de grondtroepen toegevoegd en moest in de loopgraven gaan vechten. Het was dit, of de kogel.

In de loopgraven overleefde hij een gasaanval. Zijn longen waren wel ernstig beschadigd en hij bleef daarvan zijn hele leven last hebben.

Tijdens de Tweede Wereldoorlog werden in België de oud-strijders van de Eerste Wereldoorlog opgepakt en naar werkkampen gestuurd. Mijn opa had geluk. Hij werd te werk gesteld in een hotel in Duitsland. Er waren hier veel luchtaanvallen en tijdens deze aanvallen schuilden de Duitsers in de schuilkelders. De gevangenen mochten er niet in. Mijn opa had het vertrouwen weten te winnen van de oude eigenares van het hotel. Zijn nam elke aanval haar geldkistje met geld, juwelen en waardepapieren mee. Ze was slecht ter been en moest ondersteund worden. Mijn opa wierp zich op als galante ridder. Ze wilde hem ook in de schuilkelder hebben. En zo overleefde hij de luchtaanvallen op een veilige plek.

Na de tweede Wereldoorlog leerde opa mijn oma (opoe) kennen. Ze was weduwe en had een zwaar huwelijk achter de rug. Mijn “echte” opa was vaak depressief en werd tijdens de Tweede Wereldoorlog erg ziek. Hij overleed aan darmkanker. Na de oorlog ontmoette ze mijn Belgische opa en ze werden heel erg verliefd.  Ze trouwden in 1947. Ze hadden een goed leven. Ze reisden door Europa en genoten van het destijds swingende, stadse leven in Antwerpen. Een jaar na hun huwelijk trouwden mijn ouders en ik werd in 1949 geboren.

Mijn opa had geen kinderen. Hij was echter dol op kinderen. Ik was zijn eerste kleinkind en hij verwende me mateloos. Voor mij was hij mijn grote held en ik aanbad hem. Hij speelde met ons, kocht leuke cadeautjes en leerde me een beetje Frans en Engels. Hij zong ook Franse en Engelse liedjes voor me, die ik moest leren.

In februari 1960 gingen we in het weekend naar Antwerpen, omdat mijn opa de 23^e jarig was. Het was een zalig weekend. We speelden met opa verstoppertje in de tuin. Mijn grootouders hadden midden in het centrum van Antwerpen een grote tuin met eenden, duiven en konijnen.

Op zondagavond gingen we terug naar Nederland. Dinsdags (op zijn verjaardag) kwam er een akelig telefoontje. Opa was heel ziek. Zaterdags overleed hij ten gevolge van longontsteking met complicaties. De zwakke longen konden dat niet hebben.

Mijn oma verhuisde terug naar Nederland. Ze werd nooit meer de oude. Ik zal over haar een ander keertje schrijven, want zij was een bijzondere, sterke vrouw.

In de periode na de dood van mijn opa, moest ik een tijdje bij haar logeren, omdat ze nogal last had van haar suikerziekte en niet alleen gelaten mocht worden. Ze heeft me toen veel over haar leven verteld. Genoeg om daar een mooi verhaal over te schrijven.

Maar vandaag is voor mijn opa, mijn held en oud-strijder van de oorlog die vandaag honderd jaar geleden is beëindigd.

Mieke met haar held

Bij oom Adri: opoe met Ella, opa , Mieke,  Christ en Kees

In de tuin in Antwerpen, opa met Kees, Christ en Mieke

Verliefde grootouders met mijn moeder

Opoe, Mieke en opa

Met mijn communie met opoe en opa

Trotse grootouders

For my great hero, my grandfather, veteran of World War I

Grandpa

On this memorable day (11 November 2018) I would like to tell something about my beloved grandfather. He was born in a place near Antwerp 23 February 1899 and he died 27 February 1960. The death cause was pneumonia with complications. These were caused by the damage of his lungs during the battle of World War 1, where he had survived a gas attack in the trenches.

At the start of the war my grandfather and his parents flew to London.  He was 15 years old, but very tall for his age. Everywhere in London were posters to ask young men to fight fort their country. Because my grandfather was so tall, a lot of people asked why he did not fight for Belgium and why he let the job to the British. My grandfather felt guilty and went to a recruiting office, lied about his age and said that he was 18 years old.

So he went, 16 years old, back to Belgium as a cavalry soldier. His parents were wealthy and as a youngster, he had learned to ride horses.

In Belgium he was sent to the front.  However the very young man became very anxious at his first mission. He drove his horse the opposite way, far away from the fight.  After this action he was sent to the infantry and he had to fight in the trenches. There was no way back. He could get a bullet or had to fight.

In one of these trenches, he survived a gas attack. He had bad lungs for the rest of his life, but he survived. 

In World War II, the veterans of World War I were taken as prisoners of war to labour camps.  My grandfather was lucky; he had to work in a German hotel in Germany. There were a lot of air-raid alarms. The prisoners were not allowed to go to the shelters. My grandfather helped the old lady-owner of the hotel, because she walked badly. And she took her cash box, jewellery and papers with her.  The lady asked him to stay with her in the shelter and help her with her belongings. That is how he survived all the air-raid attacks.

After World War II he met my grandmother. She was a widow and had had a not so happy marriage with my real grandfather (de Waal), who was very depressive most of the time. He died in World War II of intestinal cancer. My grandmother, who had had a rather difficult life, fell in love with my grandfather. They married in 1947. They had a wonderful life. They made fine voyages, all over Europe and had a lovely life in Antwerp, a very swinging city in those days. A year after my grandparent’s marriage, my parents got married and I was born in 1949.

My grandfather did not have had any children. He adored children. I was the first grandchild and he spoiled me very much.  For me, he was my great hero! He played with us, bought presents, taught me a little French and English and sung English and French songs for me.

In February 1960 our family went from the Netherlands to Antwerp in the weekend.  We had a lovely weekend. We and our grandfather played hide-and-seek in the garden. They had a lovely garden, in the middle of Antwerp (Grote Kauwenberg).

On Sunday evening we went back to the Netherlands. On Tuesday (my grandfather's birthday) my parents got an alarming phone call. My grandfather was very ill. On Saturday he died of pneumonia with complications.

My grandmother moved back to the Netherlands and she never became the old one anymore. I will write about her another time, because she had a remarkable life. She was a very strong woman. In the period, just after the death of my grandfather, I stayed with her a long time, be cause she was not so very healthy then. She told me so many stories about her youth. Enough to write about!

But today, the day that the Great War ended 100 years ago, is for my grandfather, my real hero.

Mieke with her hero

Grandparents with Ella and Mieke, Christ and Kees

Grandpa with Kees, Christ, Mieke in the garden in Antwerp

Grandparents in love and my mother

Mieke with grandparents

Mieke with grandparents

Grandma, Mieke, Grandpa

Adventure in Ireland: (English - Nederlands)

You may read the story of the horse drawn caravan tour (1979) in two ways:

• download the whole story in English 
• read part1 and part 2 in this weblog 

Het verhaal van onze  huifkartocht in ierland (1979) kun je op verschillende manieren lezen:

• in dit weblog in het Engels :  part1 en part 2
• in het Nederlands lezen  of downloaden

Adventure in Ireland (1979), part 2

Thursday 12th July Delphi – Aasleagh Falls: peat whiskey and a horse with nettle rash

The trip to Aasleagh Falls was beautiful too. We went through the Bundorragha Valley to Killary Harbour. The river is famous by its beauty and the fly fishing possibilities. However, we did not have a fishing permit and we were to busy to reach our next destination without accidents.

On our way we passed peat fields where the Irish cut the peat to supply their necessary fuels for the cold winter. They still use the peat in the whiskey distilleries to refine their whiskeys. Years later, we became true peat whiskey lovers, especially of single malt from the Scottish islands (Skye), but the Connemara whiskey was also very tasty. 

 

Bundorragha Valley

Peat

After leaving the valley we reached Killary Harbour fjord, a fjord of 16 kilometres long and in the centre over 45 metres deep.

On this road we met a lot of coaches again, whose passengers wanted to take pictures of us.

We had a nice ride and reached our recommended stop Aasleagh Falls, near Leenane. The stop was situated near the road and not far from the falls.

 

Killary Harbour

Killary Harbour

Killary Harbour view of Leenane

Aasleagh Falls

We met a couple and they were very worried about their horse. It had nettle rash and the leather of the breeching touched open wounds. They had tried to cover the wounds with a bandage. Besides the trouble with the poor horse they had a flat tire. They needed help from the base in Westport. Fortunately there was a telephone in the neighbourhood. They called the base. Later we heard, that they had to wait for 4 days before the help arrived.

On the background the falls

Discussing the horses situation

Drinking Irish whiskey

Peated Single malt

Friday  13^th July Aasleagh Falls – Letterfrack: Judy has a new habit

All in all we had enjoyed some nice days in beautiful surroundings. The recommended stops however were very poor and the only thing that was well arranged was the facility to put up the horses.

We left the other couple with their poor horse in Aasleagh Falls and started a ride through the heart of the Connemara. We hoped that Friday the 13^th would not bring bad luck. But first we visited the shop in Leenane to buy necessary supplies.

Judy had a new habit. She followed the other caravans very close and sniffed at the gas canisters. It was a little dangerous, because the distance between the caravans was to short now.

The Connemara was wonderful, rough and with spectacular views.

Halfway the route Judy decided to take a break. She took us to a place with a parking, a tearoom and a petrol station. We did not have plans to stop there, but Judy was used to stop there on her route with other guests and she did not walk any step further. So we had to stay till the queen of horses was ready to go.

We left the petrol station behind us and passed Kylemore Loagh (Lake) and approached what is now the Connemara National Park. It was founded and opened to the public in 1980. It features 2,957 hectares of mountains, bogs, heaths, grasslands and forest.  The entrance of the park is situated south of Letterfrack.

The Connemara National Park picture 2009

The description of the recommended stop in Letterfrack was promising. There would be shops, a singing pub and a restaurant.

When we arrived at the stop, we noticed that the fence of the paddock was in a very bad condition. The stop belonged to the ‘Bards Den Pub’. The manager of the stop, Mr. Sommerville, advised us to put a rope on the legs of the horse, so that she couldn’t run away. We thought that would be rude and instead we repaired the fence. There was no water or grass for the horses, so we gave Judy dry horse food and water.

Saturday 14th July Letterfrack:  the ghost horse and pub stories

The next morning we did not see Judy; she was gone and had destroyed the fence. We searched everywhere in Letterfrack, but we found no sign of Judy.

After a while Mr. Sommerville came to us and told us, that Judy was seen at 9.00 o'clock in the morning in Leenane, 20 kilometres back.  We took a taxi and on our way to Leenane we met two families with horse caravans. They told us, that our horse was found at Aasleagh Falls and taken to the grass field there.

In Leenane we called the headquarters of C.H.C. in Westport and they promised us to bring the horse to Letterfrack because they did not allow anyone to ride it back. The horse was a draught horse, not a saddle horse. A Dutch girl on the stop in Letterfrack had already promised us, if necessary, to ride Judy back, but we heard now that it was forbidden.

We took a taxi to Aasleagh Falls to see of Judy was alright. She was enjoying the fresh grass and seemed to like the company of the other horse, the one with the nettle rash. We drove with the taxi back to our caravan in Letterfrack.

In the afternoon we called from the pub to C.H.C. and we asked them at what time they would bring the horse. They told us that the horse was our responsibility and we had to bring it by ourselves. Now we were suddenly allowed to ride the horse. We both have no horse riding experience and the Dutch girl was not in Letterfrack anymore.

We told the story to Mr. Sommerville and he called to C.H.C. They promised him to transport Judy in a trailer and they would be in Letterfrack the next day around noon.

We did our shopping and bought fresh meat. We used the grill in the caravan for the first time and we had a really nice meal.

That evening we visited the singing pub and it was very Irish and we enjoyed the music. The Irish are good story tellers and they love ghost stories. Everybody was talking about the ‘horse from Letterfrack’ that was spotted in the middle of the night on the road from Letterfrack to Leenane. The Irish thought that the lone black horse with her rattling horseshoes looked like a ghost horse.

A poor Irishman came to our table and told us how to become rich. I had to cut my hair and Jan should sell it. I also had to make all my own clothes and shoes and he had a dozen of other tips to get ‘rich’. As I told before, Ireland was very poor in those days and these Connemara people had no idea how we lived in Amsterdam or in any other large city.

At the end of the evening, at closing time, everyone sang the national hymn and we went to sleep in our cosy caravan.

Sunday 15th July – Letterfrack: Sunday Roast

On Sunday afternoon no trailer appeared with Judy. Mr. Sommerville tried to reach C.H.C., but he had no success.

We hoped to prepare a nice Sunday dinner with the rest of the fresh bought meat. The meat however was decayed and smelled terrible and we had to go the pub for a dinner.

We had a lovely Irish evening in the pub again and we hoped that on Monday C.H.C. finally would bring Judy back.

Monday 16^th July – Letterfrack: a nice 24 kilometres walk

On Monday morning there was still no sign of a trailer with a horse. We called to Westport and a staff member told us, that the horse was our responsibility. We asked if the fence of the recommended stop was our responsibility too. He laughed a little and gave no answer to this question. We took a taxi again to Aasleagh Falls and took Judy from the grass. We had to walk back with holding Judy on the ribbons for 24 kilometres. Of course Judy wanted to take a break at the petrol station again. Because we were so tired of walking, we could use the break too.

That night Mr. Sommerville put a rope around Judy’s legs. We did not sleep well with that thought on our minds.

The ghost horse has found fresh grass in Aasleagh Falls

Tuesday 17th July  Letterfrack - Aasleagh Falls: horse flies Because we had lost so much time, we couldn’t finish our route and started our way back to Westport. This was the 6th time we drove this route: the first time with Judy and the caravan, then three times by taxi, one time by foot with Judy and now again with Judy and the caravan. It is a beautiful route, but this was a little too much. Sitting behind a horse’s back, has different disadvantages. As I told you before, we were sitting in a nasty wind, because of the effect of the horse food on Judy’s stomach. Another problem was caused by the horseflies. We all got a lot of bites of these insects and had to scratch all the time. The most of us did not look too good at that time. We arrived in Aasleagh Falls without problems.

Wednesday 18th July Aasleagh Falls – Cushlough: Judy shows a will of her own again Finally we drove an unknown route. The route was not too bad. We made several stops and took photographs. Lunch break 30 years later we drove the caravan route by our own car. We decided to stop at a beautiful place. I took pictures of a picturesque ruin. When I was back in the Netherlands, I discovered that this was not the first picture I took there. Judge the next pictures. 1979, 18Th July 2009, 27th July The recommended stop at Cushlough was at the opposite of a pub and a petrol station. It was just a parking place next to the road. We were allowed to use the toilet facilities of the pub and there was a little shop. We tried to turn the caravan, to put it on the parking place. Judy however, decided it was enough. She was hungry and did not move a leg any more. Jan had to enharass her and to feed her. Then we had to place the caravan on the right place on our own. The caravan was standing across the road and the few cars that passed had to take the drive of the petrol station. Parking place Cushlough Parking place and pub 2009 with our Honda Judy after her refusal We met other Dutch companions and that night in the pub everybody heard the story of the famous horse from Letterfrack that now had refused to set another step, before she got her food. The Irish visitors of the pub loved the story. Thursday 19th July Cushlough: day of rest and Irish songs The presence of a pub with live music, a little shop and good company, those were the reasons to stay for another day in Cushlough. We spent two lovely nights in the singing pub with Dutch and Irish company   Friday 20th July Westport: Judy spurts for home and a dinner with Irish Coffee Finally the day arrived to go back to Westport base. We loved to see the Niks family again and we were very curious how they had spent their time. (N59) Moyhastin On our way to Westport, we noticed that Judy was in a hurry. Normally Jan or I held the reigns and the other walked beside her. But she walked faster and faster. It looked as if she spurted for home. Jan decided to join on the caravan seat and then we got in a dangerous situation. Judy was not walking anymore, but started running. We had reached Westport, a little village, but with a lot of traffic. She did not care for right of way and ran the road she knew so good as fast as she could. We did not need a map; she was on her way to her stable! We were very relieved when we reached the base without accidents. At the base the Niks family was waiting for our return. They had hoped that we would arrive at Thursday and they were a little bit disappointed. Then they heard that we spent two nights in a singing pub and they thought we deserved that after all those anxious adventures. It was party time now for all of us, and they had reserved a table in a cosy restaurant. We enjoyed dinner, we shared the stories of our adventures and at the end we all drank Irish coffee (to be honest, Jan’s  Irish coffee tastes much better!). They told us, that the horse caravan company had offered them to stay the week in a cabin at a lake with fishing possibilities. The last weeks they had stayed in the broken horse caravan at the base of Westport. They already had heard the story of our run away horse of other people. We promised to keep in touch, when we would be back in the Netherlands. Saturday 21st July  Westport – Amsterdam: an amused Dutch taxi driver The last day we had to pack and after that we had to wait for the coach, to bring us to the airport. There was a lot of talking and laughing and we all were a little bit tired of all these adventures. We discovered that on Friday night the caravan company had picked up the people who could not drive back, because of damage of the caravan or other reasons. Maybe we should have finished our planned route too and then have called that we could not make it in time! Unfinished route Caravans back home Car to pick up broken caravans Ready to leave Chatting and laughing Jan with one of the ladies of the ditch Jan and Ellen The sleepy coach driver Finally the coach driver of the first day arrived and he took us safely to Shannon Airport. On the airport we met the Prim Eire hostess. We told her about our complaints and we asked her, why we could not reach her. She told us, that we should have called her in the evening and not during the office hours, because she gave us her private number. She did not give this information when we arrived the first day in Ireland. We told her that we intended to suit the company, because we were not able to complete the caravan route, as result of the accident with the stampeding horses. We had a good flight and arrived late that night at Schiphol Airport. From there we took a cab to Amsterdam. The cab driver asked us about our holiday and we told some of the stories. He could not stop laughing and asked us if we needed a holiday now, to restore from our holiday. Aftermath: Arbitration Court in The Hague The next day I had a driving lesson. My instructor was very frightened. I drove with the Toyota Corolla through the narrow streets of Amsterdam, without looking if there was enough space. He told me to be careful. But I thought it was possible to drive these alleys with a caravan. The car was so much smaller. During the lesson I looked with the eyes of a horse caravan driver. Fortunately I drove at the right side of the road and I used the break, instead of calling “Stop Judy “. Narrow streets near our house in Amsterdam On the 25ThJuly 1979 I sent a complaint to the Dutch Arbitration Court about the travel Agency Prim Eire. I had to go to the court the 28th November 1979. The court spent the whole day with complaints against Prim Eire. I expected that Prim Eire had to defend herself, but that was not the case. I had to defend myself. I received a letter on 18th January 1980. Prim Eire should pay us 435 guilders (197 euro). We had have paid 1864 guilders for the journey (846 Euro), which was a lot of money in 1978. Prim Eire finally paid the money in June 1980. We kept in touch with the Niks family and visited them at their home town Arnhem. Joop had made films and we have watched them. Those were very nice to watch. We all looked as gypsies with our horses and caravans. I thought it would be funny to make a board game of our adventures. So I did and I sent a copy to our travel companions. You may find the game at the end of this story. 2009 Back to Ireland I don’t have to say that Ireland did not make a positive impression. Jan proposed several times to go back to Ireland, but it was not attractive for me anymore. Finally in 2009 I submitted under the pressure. We travelled to Scotland and took the ferry from Stranraer to Belfast and stayed in Ireland for 4 weeks. This time we made a large tour with our car and caravan and we enjoyed it very much. We loved Ireland so much that we returned in 2011 for another 4 weeks. Route 2009 Jan in 2009 Game of the Goose