My Own Little Corner

The morning was foggy and misty, nothing unusual for Amsterdam. I remember turning the fruit a quarter turn. Going between the row of fruit on my hands and knees turning apples, pears, potatoes, and eggs was my morning job. Since I was small there could be more rows on the living room floor.

The doorbell rang, although we did not expect anyone and we had heard no one coming. Mam opened the door and there were two tall SS officers. They did not wait to be invited in. They pushed my mother aside and turned facing her in the entry hall.

They wanted Pap! My mother ordered me to go across the street to Mrs. Mendes. She only told me to do this when there were things going on that I was not supposed to hear or see. I passed the two tall men who were still standing in the hallway. "Hello, little girl, how are you?" "Very well, thank you," I said. "What is your name?" "Ansje," I answered.

I knew the next question just as well as I knew the previous ones. I also knew exactly what to answer. "How old are you?" "I am five years old, but almost six," was my answer.

And then came the dangerous one that had taken hours of practice to answer. I was taught to go into the "I don't know" mode or the "I don't remember" mode. "Where is your father, you know, your Papa? Is he with your uncle? And where is your uncle?" "I don't know. I don't think I have an uncle!" My mother interrupted by sending me across the street.

Every morning and evening we had practiced questions and answers. Somehow I knew I better do as I was told. Mam said lives depended on answers and sometimes silence was even more important.

I went across the street, but as I reached the steps going up to Mrs. Mendes' house, I heard our front door close hard. I turned around and saw the two SS officers lead my Dad away, one holding his arm with a hand on one side and on the other side the man had a hand on Pap's shoulder pushing him forward.

I sat down on the steps and watched them walk away down the street. I wondered what Pap had done this time for them to pick him up again.

My stomach felt funny, but I did not cry. I had also learned that in our rehearsals. My mother came walking quickly across the street carrying my sister in her arms. She was nervous every time Pap was picked up for something.

She was surprised to see me sitting halfway up the step, and the surprise quickly turned to anger. She always became very angry when I did not do exactly what she told me to do because it could mean the difference between life and death for me, or any of us for that matter.

Mrs. Mendes had come down when she had heard my mother yelling at me. They talked for a few minutes, keeping their voices low, and then we went home. As the front door securely locked behind us, I was again reminded to do what I was told, and for the millionth time we went through a practice session. If I needed more practice she was to accommodate me, and that meant two or three hours of drilling questions and answers, which I was totally sick of.

As my mother tended to my sister, I sat on the arm of the big chair in the living room, which was kind of a safe corner, close to the potbelly stove. It kept the room comfortable with only one scoop of briquettes.

When I smelled bacon it was dinner time. All the drapes were closed and the towels and pieces of blanket securely placed in the window sills to keep the smell in. The neighbors must not smell what we had to eat. My mother did not want them begging at the door.

Pap came back the next day. The Germans had picked him up because someone had seen us watch the soldiers parade and I had been singing the song with the marching soldiers! They had asked him why he had taught his child German marching songs. They threatened to send him to Germany. They threatened him with hard labor. He really did not know how I had learned the melody so fast and he could not imagine how I had learned the words! They told him they would shoot him without another warning if they should catch him watching another marching parade.

I still remember that song today. When I sing it or just hum the melody, I see them walk away with Pap. The only thing that puzzles me is that I know the words in Dutch and not in German. Did Pap teach me the words after all?

He really did not. I learned that song by watching them march by only one time. It is very easy to sing and easy to walk to. I proved later to be very musical, and have very good rhythm.

This is how the song goes:

Zeg meisje lief, heb jij vanavond vry?
Heili, Heilo.
Dan maak ik gauw van jou
Een goed soldaten vrouw,
Heili, heili, heilo, heili, heilo.

(Hey cute little girl, are you available tonight?
Heili, heilo.
I’ll quickly turn you into a good soldier’s wife.)