Attempted sabotage and smuggling

(From the book "The Pioneering Underground in the Occupied Netherlands", pages 184-186)

.I helped to rescue 16 Friends out of Westerbork-camp, mostly with Lore Durlacher

Close to the end of the war we wanted to derail a deportation train. For this purpose I installed a time bomb, but the time until the shipment left was short – only 15    minutes

  .It was good to know that Lore was near the camp

Seeing that it was impossible to carry out our plan in such a short time, we returned.  So we decided to derail another train.

I got a heavy pipe wrench and hurried to the rail. There was, of course, a guard near the rails – and when the device made some noise, the railroad guard turned his head. He paused for a moment, and continued on his way

A new day came into the world, and heavy rain began to fall farmer's farm felt nothing of what was about to happen. And what will happen to the train and all the people and families and their suffering? Will this be useful? How do I know that – do at all I need to know? It's just clear to me, that I can do nothing. Everyone says that the war is going on so much and that the bread is bad … my thoughts got confused

I did not care anymore. But something need to be done. I took a quick look in all directions and got on the rails with the device. The forceps closed, and with nervous movements I tightened the screw until it was closed completely. I kicked a few kicks, until finally the object got stuck well between the rails. Almost unknowingly I passed the mud and flew my bikes along the road

The wind pushed me in the direction of the camp. I noticed seven policemen guarding the camp, and immediately slowed down. In the first round I started flying again.

When I got off the rails, it was 7:05. At 7:13 the train will pass. Will I wait and follow what happens? No way! I threw the rags and the key over me. I arrived at the designated meeting place with Lore. I had to wait another two hours, until she will arrive by the train

One German approached with a penetrating look, followed by a young man with a gun in his hand. At the cafe I was told that a lot of guys had escaped from the labor camps, hence the increased checks.

.I thought it appropriate not to get into the conversation

Lore has finally arrived. She said the train passed without incident. In the evening I saw it for myself: animal carriages, a long line, including children, sons, daughters, fathers, mothers and the elderly. Everything was, therefore, in vain and the injustice will continue to exist

Miraculously all the acquaintances remained in Westerbork. A few days later the train strike broke out, and it was difficult to contact with them. Unexpectedly, another transport was sent to Germany in October 1944

We managed to save Gideon, who was taken out of the camp in a small caravan. Disguised as a sailor, he came to a farmer's house, and from there he continued by bicycles

.In Essen he was slowly recovered from a kick he received in the Vught camp

In the meantime we were looking for a new way to smuggle friends out of the camp, in case the Germans will be starting a complete extermination of the detainees

Kurt Walter discovered a sewer that went under a pool and the barbed wire fence towards outside of the camp; The diameter of the canal was about 50 cm. He tried to get through the pipe and managed to make a long way in it. He decided that in a time of distress it would be possible to use this way, despite the water and mud that had accumulated in the pipe

To check the degree of ventilation, he tied a candle to a small board and sailed it through the canal. The candle came out of it about two hundred meters while it was lit

Kurt did all this, while the scoundrels around him. In the field he hid a suitcase, containing civilian clothes

In a later period I mounted a folding trolley on three wheels, which matched the diameter of the pipe. The intention was for the friend to lie on it on his back and others to pull him through the canal. Luckily, we did not have to use it

.After the release, we painted it red

Frans Gerritsen