If my mother had been Jewish, I might not be here today. Neeltje Verburg, daughter of Marinus, was born in Rotterdam and survived the Second World War there too. She survived although, the family lost several homes and all their property several times over as the Luftwaffe flattened the Netherlands’ second city.
Over 100,000 Dutch Jews perished in World War Two, almost three-quarters of their population. 70 years on, we remember the holocaust.
I never met Marinus, who died before I was born, but my grandmother Anna did remember the war and rarely talked about it. My mother did remember the war and did talk about it. She recalled seeing the marines fighting to defend Rotterdam, some dying too in acts of great heroism. She remembered the bombing too, the huge explosions around the city, wondering if she would ever see tomorrow. Even the bomb shelters were not safe and anything vaguely near a direct hit would have seen her perish too. She did see Nazis – she told me you could always tell, instantly, who the Nazis were and who the conscripts were. It was as if they had been brainwashed and cleansed of their consciences and humanity. They pushed people around and shot them too. And they wanted the Jews. To exterminate them. The conscripts, my mum recalled them as blonde haired blue eyed boys, didn’t want to be there, she was sure of that. Marinus told her never to mix with the occupiers, but she did and so did her friends. She could tell the difference between the types of invaders and took home food that they gave her. Marinus never asked where it came from because, my mum believed, he didn’t want to know, his strong principles quietly put to the back of his mind so he could get a proper meal instead of sparrows, caught on the balcony.
They did not always know what was happening during the war. Information was at a premium, the media was in the hands of the Germans and even the plight of Jews was not always known, although most suspected what was going on. Many of the German conscripts didn’t talk about the Jewish question either. Whether they were uncomfortable, embarrassed or appalled – probably all three – they realised there was nothing they could do without themselves being shot. And Hitler, at his pomp, seemed unstoppable.
Local jews disappeared and it was only after the war when the Verburgs knew for sure where they had gone. Good, decent people, just like them, who worked for a living and harmed no one. So the trauma of occupation was replaced by the gradual understanding what else had been happening in the gas chambers. I am not sure you could ever get over that, so that is why people don’t talk about it, can’t talk about it.
It has been a difficult day for many people. The survivors, the families of victims and even those of us who have a modicum of humanity about them. How could you fail to be moved?
Incredibly, anti-semitism isn’t dead: it’s alive and kicking the jews, just like it has always done. I welcome the all party decision to commemorate the holocaust with a permanent memorial. If we allow this to be forgotten and we stand by as anti-semitism tries to take hold, then we will have learned nothing from history.
The scenes on TV now from Auschwitz are hard to watch, even just looking at the preserved buildings. Never forget.
