Dear Chris,
Please find below a
civilian’s story during the WWI1
The man who writes the story
is a friend of me and also a CR1BA’s member.
It is a 10 year old Belgian
boy’s recollection of WW II.
I thought that you may be
interested. They describe the experiences of a 10
year old boy living in Belgian
during WW II.
From: Philippe Watelet,
Date: Thu, Aug 4,1994,
Subject: WW11
recollections/part 1
In the following days, I would
like to contribute to this Forum by sharing a
few recollections of a typical
Belgian family relating events of WWI I.
While there may be little
historical value in these recollections, they do
represent experiences of many
Belgian families in occupied Belgium as seen
through the eyes of a boy who
was only 10 years old when our city was
liberated by the US Army.
The subjects of these
recollections will be:
[1] The War begins, we flee
but then return home,
[2] The resistance in our
city,
[3] Food, gas and coal: the
Belgian “Home Front”
[4] Local arrests,
[5] My father taken hostage,
[6] the Air War reaches our
city: we are bombed
[7] Liberation at last.
I start to day with the first
subject: the War begins, we flee and then
return home.
My first recollection goes
back to early 1940 before the nazi invasion of
Belgium. My father was a
doctor in ophtalmology and he was ordered to rejoin
a medical military Unit in
Gent. I was sitting in the staircase and he was
there in the hall in uniform.
My mother was crying softly. I remember the
feeling that something serious
was happening but I could not really
understand.
For me, in his military
uniform, it seemed that my father was great! And
then he said good bye to all
of us and left. At that time, I had 3 brothers
and I was 5 years old.
He has instructed my mother to
leave our home with her sons for France if
the war really started. This
advice was based on their experience of the
previous war WWI , some 25
years before. At that time. my father had just
started his medical studies
but he went as a simple volunteer soldier in the
belgian infantry for 4 years.
The germans in WWI were brutal with the
civilians.
They had put cities and
villages on fire in several place in Belgium. Since
now it was again the germans
who were threatening our country, many people
were thinking that the nazis
would most probably behave according to the
same pattern. Therefore the
best way to avoid the brutality and the possible
killing was to flee away, if
possible.
So, one day, we left La
Louviere in our car: my mother, her 4 sons and some
luggages on the top of the car
attached with belts and strings. I do not
remember how many Kms she
drove but, still in Belgium, some iuggages failed
down from the top of the car
on the road. Some repair work done, we continued.
The road was rather crowded
with civilians in some parts of it. But once
again some luggages failed
down and then my mother said I think we stop
here and we are going back
home”. So we did, she drove us back home. She
certainly took the right
decision. We learnt later from people who went to
France that enemy aircrafts
were sometimes gunning the roads full of
military convoys mixed with
civilians. Some or many were wounded or killed.
It was really a confused
situation for me and for my brothers. We could not
understand this whole
situation, we were too young.
When I talked recently to my
mother, I asked her why she took that
decision.
She said that she had the real
feeling that she left La Louviere too late
and that she heard friends
saying that the german tanks were quite fast in
ther offensive and she was
afraid to be in a combat area. She also said that
an german aicraft has been
flying very low above the road (I have no memory
of that but I trust her) and
she was sure to be safer in our home than
somewhere on the roads to
France. So we were back in our house and my
brothers and were quite happy
to see and play with our toys left behind.
Then the Germans arrived and
our city of La Louviere was occupied by the
werhmacht. No school any more
for a few weeks. For us it was fun. But we had
no news from our father.
Several weeks later he came back. His Unit went to
Gent, Ostende, Dunkerque and
finally the orders were to go to Nantes in
France but it never made it.
The nazis first line troops were indeed quite
fast and one day his Unit was
found almost surrounded in the north of
France. The germans were
victorious and since a medical Unit did not have
arms they could not care less
about prisonners. They simply wanted to go on
and on. A german officer
ordered the belgian major in charge of the medical
Unit to wait there for the
second line troops which would then organise the
transfer into a POW camp. Then
several members of the Unit including my
father decided wait until dark
late in the evening and to run away through
the fields, sleeping during
the day and walking during the night. By doing
so and avoiding any
concentration of enemy troops, he came back home
exhausted but alive.
Our family was re-united. The
local administration was in a sort of chaos
and it was never asked how and
why my father was back, the belgiam city
employees were not ready to
inform the nazis about the names of persons who
did escaped from their hands.
Life would continue in the
occupied Belgium. I will continue about that in
another message.
From: Philippe Watelet,
Date: Fri, Aug 6,1994,
Subject: WWII
recollections/2: the resistance in our city.
In this second story on some
recollections of a belgian family during the
WWII, I will say a few word on
the local resistance in our city. As I said
in the 1st story, there is no
historical value in these recollections of
WWII.
They simply are memories of a
belgian family in occupied Belgium as seen
through the eyes of a boy of
5/10 years old during that war.
There was local resistance in
the area of La Louviere, building up from 1942
to 1944-45. There were two
organizations. One called “secret Army” recruited
its members mainly from former
reserve Officers and soldiers who did escape
in the early days of the war
from being POW’s. They had no political
ambition.
They wanted to fight the enemy
and were in contact with London for
instructions on sabotages to
be made. The other organization called Fl for
Front de l’lndependance if I
do remember correctly was more of a political
nature. They wanted also to
fight the nazi’s with the same courage and, in
addition, had the ambition of
preparing the new public administration if the
war was eventually won.
I remember that my father
although he was not a regular resistant himself
was sometimes in contact with
friends in the Secret Army. One day he was
asked if he would help them in
a coup. They got the information that there
was an important Gestapo
meeting in Mons (+1- 25 Kms from La Louviere). The
Gestapo Officer (the
Nazis’secret police) reponsible of the La Louviere area
would be attending the
meeting. In particular, they thought that the Officer
would most probably be
accompanied by a belgian collaborator who was a
traitor hated by the local
population. His name was Duquesne. He and the
Gestapo Officer would come
back late in the evening or at night from Mons to
La Louviere and would use an
official german car. On his way back to La
Louviere, they would have to
cross a bridge above a canal (Canal du Centre)
where a party of resistants
would fire at the car in order to kill both men.
Since he was a doctor, they
asked my father if he could take care of any
member of the resistance team
if the fight would result with wounded men.
They also thought that the car
would be followed by another car with SS
soldiers for protection and
were prepared for a small but serious fight.
So he went that evening to a
small house just near the bridge according to
the intructions and with what
was needed for such circumstances. He then
organized a room for possible
casualties. A resistant and my father were
waiting there for several
hours in a tense atmosphere listening for the
expected noise of the fight.
But nothing happened until 4/5 in the morning.
The resistants then decided to
leave the bridge while it was still dark.
They thought that the
Gestapo’s car took probably another but longer road
to La Louviere or worst that
the Gestapo might have been informed in advance
about the danger of an attack
near the bridge. They were not sure. But my
father learnt later that both
men remained that night in Mons and came back
to La Louviere the day after.
In the next message, in a few
days, I will say a few words on how was the
every day life during that
period ,in particular, on the difficulty, to find
the food. This could be called
the “belgian home front”.
From: Philippe Watelet,
Date: Sun, Aug 14,1994,
WWll recollections/part 3
In this third message, I say a
few words on some recollections of the
occupation period during
WWII.We might call it “The belgian home front”.
During the occupation of
Belgium ,to find food has been a very serious
problem, in particular for my
parents. In 1942, my youngest brother was born
in June and my oldest brother
was 12 year old. So there were 5 boys around
the table to be feeded every
day... The nazis have organized their own
economy. They were simply
seizing a large part of the local production for
their needs: wheat, meat,
potatoes, fruits, coal, steel, etc. I read
recently that there was even
competition between the german army branches
such as Luftwaffe, Wehrmacht,
Kriegsmarine, the SS and the like ,each
imposing their own
requirements on the belgian Administration in order to
provide so many tons of this
or of that per month.
We had a system of stamps for
the food. At the beginning of each month, each
family, according to its size,
was to receive so many stamps for bread, so
many stamps for butter, so
many stamps for meat, for soap etc.
Each monthly stamp gave the
right to buy exactly a fixed quantity of a
specific food item. Say, 1
stamp for butter gave the right to buy 100 gramms
of butter. So ,in a shop, you
would only get that quantity indicated on the
stamps and the shop-keeper was
requested to keep for the Food Administration
the exact accounting of all
the stamps he received from his clientele each
month and to give back all the
outdated stamps.
By doing so, the nazi control
of the food market was complete: i.e. small
amount of meat available on
the market, limited and fixed number of stamps
distributed to each family,
small quantity to be delivered in exchange of
each stamp. Without stamps, no
possibility to buy anything.
I do not remember having been
very hungry for days. But I do remember though
the bad quality of some food:
the bread was almost black with a bad taste,
sometimes the potatoes were
awfull, the fruits were quite rare and so were
sugar, milk and eggs.
Gardening was not a hobby;
many if not all gardens were used for planting
vegetables. Our grand parents
did help us. They were living in a village
named Bois du Luc not far from
La Louviere and they were friends of a
farmer. Almost on each sunday
the farmer sold them a large piece of white
bread made by himself, without
asking for stamps. And our grand parents gave
that bread to my parents. I
remember how good it was. We ate it with much
pleasure and appetite, almost
religiously. There was also a “black market’
without stamps. My mother told
me the other day when we were recalling
events of this period that she
had sometimes bought butter or white bread
for the family. The prices
were quite high. Taking into account roughly the
rate of that time, 1 kilo of
butter was around $US 150/170 at today value
and a bread was about 30 $US.
Coal was also a problem .
Belgium at that time had many excellent coal mines
with high production capacity.
But again the nazis were seizing a large part
of the coal production to be
sent to Germany. The winter of 1942 was quite
severe and several rooms of
our house were definitively closed for several
months because it was not
possible to heat them due to the lack of coal.
Again my grand father did help
us. He was the general manager of a coal mine
near Bois du Luc and he could
manage to spare some small part of the coal
production from the control of
the Nazi’s. And at night only, he managed to
deliver some coal to us and to
some of his friends at his own risk of being
caught by a german patrol, the
Feldwebels, as they were called. Fortunately,
this never happened.
Another thing that happened:
in 1942 or 1943, the nazi’s decided to seize
all the bells from the
churches and use them as raw materials, mainly
bronze, for their production
of military equipment. They took away 2 bells,
one of them quite large 1 .5
ton, from the church of La Louviere. I remember
that the local population was
present on the grand place in front of the
church attending in silence
when the bells were put down on a large german
truck. There were soldiers all
around and despite of that close surveillance
my mother managed to take a
picture of the scene. I think she might still
have that picture today.
Gasoline was also a problem.
Its use was strictly controlled as the use of
cars. In fact, very early in
the war, our car was put in a garage at the
house of my grand parents.
Some vital pieces of the engine, including 2
wheels with the tires, were
taken away and hidden in the soil of the garden
during the complete duration
of the war. So if the nazi’s wanted to take the
car for their own use, it
would have been impossible. But they never checked
where that car was. Moreover,
since Bois du Luc was a village, the
probability for them to find
out was really small. It did not happened.
The use of private cars was
submitted to a written authorization from the
nazI’s administration, the
famous Kommandantur.
Overall we certainly managed
to survive during that period but for sure the
main difficulties and problems
were not for my brothers and me but for my
parents who were in charge of
the 5 of us. I must say that they did
everything they could to make
our life as supportable as it could be under
difficult conditions.
It should be noted also that
the situation in Belgium indeed very difficult
was better than in the
Netherlands (Holland). From the very beginning of the
war, Holland was militarly
administrated and controlled by the Gestapo/SS
troops which were brutal. As a
consequence, the high Officer in charge there
was a 55 officer reporting
directly to Himmler. In Belgium, it was the
Wehrmacht, the normal german
troops, which was in charge of the military
administration of our country.
The responsible german Officer was a General
named von Falkenhausen.
He was from an old
aristocratic and well educated prussian family. He was
reporting to the Army
Headquarters in Berlin.
Of course, he occupied Belgium
with his troops and took measures against any
attempt of resistance. But he
has authority on the Gestapo/SS troops and
could limit their actions to
some extent. He tried for instance to limit the
seizing of foods for the
Nazi’s in order to leave a minimum of food for the
belgian citizens. He also
tried to limit the number of arrests of men to be
sent as forced workers in the
german factories. This was known only after
the war when some german
documents were examined by the Allied forces and
the belgian justice
Departement. But in July 1944, he was arrested under the
order of Himmler himself and
send to a military jail in Berlin. He was
replaced by a SS General who
make our life probably more difficult. But at
that time, the D-Day was
already a success and there was much hope
everywhere of being free again
some day.
In 1945 or 1946, von
Falkenhausen was judged in Belgium and sentenced to 10
years of jail. When the full
story of his human behavior was completely
acknowledged, the sentence was
diminished to less than the 10 years.
In my next message I will say
a few words on the arrests made by the
occupying forces in our local
area. Philippe.
From: Philippe Watelet,
Date: Mon, Aug 8,1994,
Subject:WWII
recollections/part 4: Some arrests by the Nazis in La
Louviere,
Belgium.
In the 3 previous posted WWII
recollections, I proposed to share 3 “stories”
about my family remembering
the following events: the evacuation before the
enemy’s invasion, the local
resistance and the belgian “home front” in
occupied Belgium.
This is another recollection
about some arrests made in La Louviere of which
I have some memories.
About the Jews, there were
probably a very small number in the city. I don’t
remember anything about them
in our area although I know that elsewhere in
Belgium, many of them were
arrested. On the other hand there were sometimes
sorts of massive arrest. The
objective of the nazi’s was to arrest men and
send them as forced workers in
the german factories.
My parents had a girl called
Martha at home. She was around 20 years old
and was helping my mother in
taking care of the 5 children. On a Sunday
afternoon in autumn 1942,
Martha and I went to see a football (soccer) game
in La Louviere. Her fiance was
one of the team players. At the end of the
game, the stadium was
completely surrounded by german soldiers and there
were military trucks in the
streets nearby. All the men between 20 and 35
years old were obliged to go
into the trucks and were taken away to Germany.
During the screening of the
men on one side and women and children on the
other side, the SS were not
kind at all. They shouted orders which we could
not understand. I was hit in
the back with the butt of a rifle and went
quickly away with Martha to
our home. On the next monday, I was kind of
proud to tell the story to my
school friends on the playground: I was a
brave boy (7 years old at that
time) who did escape!!! Fortunately her
fiance was well aware of the
facilities, rooms, offices, etc inside the
building where the players put
their equipments and took the showers. He
managed to hide himself
somewhere in that building and was saved but from
then on he had to hide for
several weeks and never played soccer until the
end of the war. I don’t
remember what was the outcome for the other players.
Another arrest happened to our
neighbourg, Mr Pirson. His house was just
close to our’s. He was an
engineer and was General Manager of a factory
producing spare parts for
steam locomotives, freight car and wagons. The
factory was under the control
of the nazis and a very large part of the
production was taken away for
the german railways. A Captain of the
Wehrmacht was working fulltime
in that factory controlling the quality and
the production. One night, the
Gestapo came at the home of Mr Pirson and
arrested him on the spot.
He was immediately taken away.
The next morning, the Captain
called Mrs Pirson on the phone to check why
her husband was not at the
factory as usual. She explained the situation and
the arrest of her husband. He
then intervened vis a vis the Gestapo
explaining that that engineer
was needed by all means. A few days later the
Captain met Mrs Pirson and
said that he was very sorry but he could not
understand the decision and he
was not in a position to modify it.
Mr Pirson never came back from
Germany. Several months after the end of the
war, Mrs Pirson received a
letter from the Red Cross saying that the name of
her husband was recorded on a
listing of the Dachau concentration camp in
1944. He probably died there.
Nobody never understood that very sad arrest.
In the next message lthe 5th
one] I will say some words about the arrest of
my father as hostage in 1943.
From: Philippe Watelet,
Date: Wed, Aug 10, 1994,
Subject: WWII recollections/5:
an arrest as hostage, at La Louviere, Belgium.
I will send now a few words
about the arrests of my father.
One day in 1943 while my
father was taking care of a patient in his medical
office at home, the Gestapo
(Nazi’s secret police) came in and arrested him.
My mother was not there, she
was shopping. He was taken away on the spot and
Martha, the girl who was
helping my mother, gave him quickly a small bag
with some food in it.
Later in that day he came back
with a Gestapo written order requesting him
to go to the railway station
of Haine-Saint-Pierre (about 5 Kms from La
Louviere) at 18.00 h. twice a
week during a period of 3 or 4 months, I don’t
remember the exact duration.
Some 20 men from our area received the same
instruction from the Gestapo.
They were to be locked up in a freight car
placed just in front of the
steam locomotive of a regular military train
going to Roubaix in the North
of France with soldiers, equipments,
ammunitions, etc. From Roubaix
the train was going back to Germany through
Belgium during the night with
pieces of equipments produced in France
probably for assembly
somewhere in Germany and then back to Mons, in
Belgium.
The nazi’s were taking these
men as hostages claiming publicly that if the
resistants would continue blow
up the railways, they would at the same time
kill belgian people who were
in that very first car. Off course my father
could decide not to obey to
the Gestapo order. But if so he should then
leave our home and hide
himself somewhere. It was almost certain that the
Gestapo would retaliate
against his wife or his children. He really had no
choice but to comply with the
order.
So twice a week he went to the
station at 18.00 h. and it was hoped that he
would be back home about 24
hours later. We were all quite anxious each time
he left asking ourselves
whether we would see him again after each departure
since, in fact, the resistants
were sometimes destroying the railways and
the rail switches with
explosives. It lasted several weeks with some
incidents. The train was
stopped in the open country or in the woods or in a
tunnel but the hostages could
only guess the reason : it could be because of
a derailment ahead on the line
or a bombing underway on a station through
which the train had to go or
anything else like an obstruction on the
railway.
After some weeks the health of
my father deteriorated dramatically because
of the stress, the difficulty
to sleep and the like. But he had to continue,
he was weak and subject to
sudden dizziness. Then by friendship and
solidarity, his doctor
colleagues proposed to my mother to replace my father
each in turn. My mother went
to the Kommandantur office in Mons explaining
to the Gestapo that her
husband was too weak to continue and that a few
other men were ready to
replace him. That proposition was rejected by the
Gestapo officer because he
could not trust the promise made by the friends
of my father. Then my mother
in despair said that she would replace him,
that she would be at the
station at 18.00 h. as requested and that since she
was his wife the name Watelet
on the list would be the same anyway.
The Officer also refused
saying that he did not want any woman in that
freight car. Eventually she
could convince him that the other doctors would
be present each in turn at the
departure of the train.
During that difficult period,
the colleagues of my father took regularly
their burden respecting their
word. My father could take some needed rest at
home. Another ophtalmologist,
Mrs Toussaint, was working part time in the
office of my father taking
kindly care of his patients. Fortunately, no
accident happened to any
friend of my father. There was only a serious
alert. One day, Dr Paul Roger,
a surgeon whose wife was a close friend of my
mother, did not came back the
day he was expected to be back home.
His wife (she had 4 children)
in true despair was thinking that her husband
was killed or wounded
following a derailment. But no such a think happened.
The train was stopped
somewhere because of air attacks but was not badly
hit. Mr Roger finally arrived
safely at home but with delay.
Regularly a german military
doctor came at home for checking the health of
my father and at the end of
the 3 or 4 months the hostages were released and
our anguish was over. My
mother (she is 87 years old) told me recently that
she was in deep difficulty at
that time. She was alone with her 5 sons,
always scared that something
could happen to her husband. And she is still
today as we are full of
admiration and respect for the solidarity shown by
her husband’colleagues risking
to some extent their own life to help him
under difficult and dangerous
circumstances.
After some rest my father
could resume his medical practice. But about that
issue the worst was still to
come. In the spring of 1944, the railway
station of Haine Saint Pierre,
close to La Louviere, was subject to 2 heavy
bomber attacks, one during the
day and one during the night one week or so
later. The second attack was a
success and the station was seriously
destroyed.
My father was arrested again
together with several men of our local area and
they were obliged to work at
that station to clear up the ground and to
repair the rails under the
supervision of the Reichbahn. That was hard
manual work moving debris in
wheelbarrows for hours or taking away pieces of
destroyed rails. After 1 or 2
weeks of such work, he was more or less
exhausted. By chance, one day,
a belgian employee of that station recognized
him. He was a former patient
of my father and he managed to explain to his
Reichbahn superior that he
needed clerical help and succeded to take my
father on board as a kind of
helping hand in the offices.
When this period of manual
work was over, probably 3 or 4 weeks, the station
was operational again and he
was released. But due to the physical efforts
and the use of his hands for
heavy manual work, his fingers were damaged and
trembling. So he could not
resume his medical work and in particular any eye
surgery. He had not enough
confidence on the control of his hands and
fingers for that kind of
delicate work. This situation lasted 2 or 3 months.
When a surgical operation had
to be done, he asked a colleague
ophtalmologist, Dr Mairiaux or
Dr Toussaint, to take over the patient and he
was acting as a simple
assistant. This was done in true friendship until
when he was again sure enough
that he could do the work himself. But I
remember that for a period of
time he asked one of these colleagues to
assist him anyway, should he
lose confidence in himself during an difficult
operation.
All these months were
difficult for my parents. The health of my father was
a concern as well as the
insecurity, the arrests, the finding of food etc.
not to say, although they were
quite discreet about that, the financial
situation for supporting a
large family when he was absent or unable to
work. I did ask recently to my
mother if they knew why our father was
arrested twice. She said that
they were not sure at that time. According to
her memory, she thinks that my
father was probably talking to openly to some
people about the Allied and
the hope that the Nazi’s would be defeated.
He had also some links with
friends in the resistance. May be this or that
was reported to the Gestapo in
some way, who knows?
I hope that this “story” is
not too personal. As I said before there is no
historical value in all this.
It is simply the story of a belgian family
during WWII.
In a next (6th) message, I
think that I will to say something on the bombing
of La Louviere which happened
in April 1944.
From: Philippe Watelet,
Date: Thu, Aug 11, 1994,
Subject: WWll recollections/6:
The air war reaches our city in April 1944.
Another recollection I have of
the war period is the bombing of the railway
station of Haine-Saint-
Pierre, very close to our city of La Louviere. This
station was mainly a large
freight station under the control of the german
army and organized by the
Reichbahn officers. The trains were formed to go
to France, Germany or Italy
with military equipments, goods and military
Units.
They transported sometimes
trucks,large guns and tanks. I remember having
seen some of them ,
camouflaged, with at the end of the train, a flat car
with an AAAIFIak gun and its
team of soldiers on it.
it was a sunny Thursday
afternoon in April 1944. At that time , we had a
half day off at school on
Thursdays and I was playing with my boy-scouts
friends in the park of La
Louviere. We heard the air-raid sirens as usual
when large groups of bombers
were flying to Germany and we saw the bombers
coming. They were flying not
as high as we used to see them. All of a sudden
bombs were falling and
exploding around us. I remember seeing a large tree
falling down on the ground in
the park. We all were running away. Some of my
friends ran into a concrete
shelter built for the protection of civilians
just near the entrance of the
park. I don’t know for which reason but I ran
into the opposite direction in
a street and I entered into a house searching
protection. A lady was there
in the entrance hail and she took my hand
saying that the best place was
in the corner of the kitchen, just behind a
hat/coat stand. The bombs were
exploding, the house was trembling and it
seemed to me that a sort of
immense giant was smashing everything around us
with a big hammer. I was
leaning against that lady who prayed aloud.
Then the noise and the
explosions stopped. We were alive. I looked at the
lady to say thank you and she
gave me a kiss. I told her that I was going
home. She asked if I knew how
to get there. I said yes and I left the lady
in her house. In the street, I
realized that it was impossible for me to go
home by the usual way because
of the fires, the smoke, the dust and all the
debris of some destroyed
houses. I went by a different way but after a few
minutes an unexpected second
wave of bombers arrived and the bombs were
exploding again.
At that time, I laid down in
the gutter with my arms above my head because
debris and pieces of glasses
were falling all around. When it was over I
remember staying there,
sitting in the gutter for a while. I then tried to
go home by a street somewhat
on the outside of the city, you would say today
the ring. On my way I met our
chief scout and her assistant. She was a girl
of 18/20 year old named
lsabelle who was trying to find and regroup the
boys. Since some were still
missing, she took us in a sort of ditch in a
field and we stayed there for
a while.
At one point in time, I saw at
some distance my father riding on his bicycle
in the direction of the city
hospital. I said to lsabelle that I wished to
see him and she let me go
because she had also recognized my father.
I went to the hospital but
when I arrived there were already many streches
on the grass in front of the
main door and I could not see my father
anywhere. Another doctor, Dr
Toussaint, saw me alone, took me in his arms
and said “Oh, Philippe, you
are alive, your daddy thinks that you are
dead!”
He said that my father was
aware that the scouts were in the park area which
was badly hit. My father was
already in the operation room but he would tell
him that I was in good shape.
And he kissed me like he never did before and
adviced me to go home via a
save way, what I did.
One could still heard the
explosions of some bombs either not exploded after
the impact but maybe in a
house on fire or exploding by a delayed timing
device. My mother was at home
with my brothers. Our house was still there
with only some broken glasses.
That was nothing compared to the houses in
the park area and in the
streets close to the park. A few hours later we
learnt that the concrete
shelter has been almost directly hit. One of the
scout was dead and two other
were wounded but eventually recovered.
Strange things happened: i.e.
in a house of a friend of my parents, Dr
Pourtois a dentist, a bomb
went through the roof, then through the second
floor down into the bathtub
without explosion. On the next Sunday I went
with my mother to see the lady
who took me in her home to say thank you to
her for her kindness.
Unfortunately, the station was
not hit at all, It was difficult to
understand. A few days later a
special funeral office took place on the
grand place in front of the
church, 72 people being killed during that
attack.
From that time on, I was
really scared each time I heard the engine of any
aircraft. I was always
thinking that the nightmare would start again.
My parents tried kindly to
reassure me but deep down inside of myself I was
alone with my fears. I was
also somewhat confused when my parents were
talking about the allied
airmen, our “friends”, they said. My brothers and I
learnt also from snatches of
conversations that my parents were secretly
helping a couple living not
far from our home who were hiding 2/3 US airmen
whose bomber was hit by the
Flak and had to use their parachutes for saving
their lives.
The schools were closed for
some days. My parents sent me to my grand
parents’ home at Bois du Luc.
They probably felt that I was somewhat shaken
by the bombing and told me
that I would be in complete security with my
grand parents. Bois du Luc was
like a village not far from La Louviere. One
night while I was still there,
there was a new alert with the air-raid
sirens. We went into the
cellar organized as a shelter. The
Haine-Saint-Pierre station was
attacked this time by the RAF bombers with
very good results. Houses were
destroyed around the station but the railyard
was seriously damaged. We
heard the explosions but it was several Kms away.
I was later told by my oldest
brother Jean-Pierre that after he was woken by
the sirens he saw through the
window of his room many parachutes with
special lights going down
dropped by an advanced group of planes. He waked
up my parents just to show the
scenery. Most probably they understood that
something serious was going to
happen and took immediately the whole family
in the cellar. The bombers
then arrived, the bombing took place. As said
before, this second bombing
was rather accurate and the railway station was
put out of operation for some
weeks.
At that time, I confess that I
could not really understand as a too young
boy why the airmen had to
destroy so many houses and to kill or wound my
friends. When I recall all
this I think it is factual but probably partly
emotional. I must say also
that still today when I hear a plane with a
propeller engine former images
come sometimes to my mind. And I also think
that my personal interest in
reading many books on the WWII finds its very
origin in the fact that I was
too young at the time to understand the tense
situations we experienced and
that additional information would probably
help me to answer to a sort of
basic question remaining in my mind : “why
all this did happen?”
In the next message, the last
one, I will post my recollection of the
liberation of La Louviere in
early September 1944, when the US troops
arrived.
From: Philippe Watelet,
Date: Sun, Aug 14, 1994,
Subject: WWII
recollections/part 7 : the liberation at last.
In this last installment, I
recall some memories about the event known in
Belgium as the “Liberation”
which took place in La Louviere during the first
days of September 1944.
For 2 or 3 days before,
several groups of nazi’s troops were going through
the city, retreating. Some of
these troops seemed still disciplined and
organized but others were in a
bad shape: the soldiers were exhausted and
rather dirty. One could see a
tank or a halftrack having one or 2 trucks in
tow due to the lack of
gasoline. Some soldiers were using bicycles. All
trucks and guns were covered
with branches of trees to avoid allied air
attacks.
People were looking at them
with caution, sometimes just behind the curtains
of a window or at the corner
of the street. Various rumors circulated about
these retreating troops saying
that sometimes they fired at civilians
smiling too openly or they
could take hostages and put them on the hood of
the first trucks of a column
to avoid the possible fire from resistants. It
was a poor army, quite
different from what we have seen in 1940-41.
Then we were left alone for 24
hours, not knowing if nazi’s troops would
still come. But again all
kinds of rumors were going on: “The US troops are
in Mons, they are already near
Le Roeulx (some 10 kms from La Louviere)” or
“The nazis are concentrating
forces in the woods outside of La Louviere,
they plan to come back...” And
THEN , in the early afternoon of September
4th (or 5th), the US troops
arrived. First it was a very long column of
Sherman tanks coming and
driving slowly in the main street, followed by many
halftracks, trucks, jeeps and
Dodge cars. Everyone was in that street and it
was like an immense explosion
of joy in the city. We were all looking and
cheerfully waving to these men
in kaki uniform unknown to us, young and
smiling. They were greeted the
best we could with flowers, bottles of wine,
flags, and kisses. It was
really great.
There was no fighting in our
city except in the woods of Houdeng near La
Louviere. There a group of
resistants was in difficulty fighting since one
or 2 days against nazi’s
troops which were trying to surround them before a
final assault. A belgian
resistant aware of that situation did talk in
english to the US Officer of a
tank, explaining to him the need for help.
He could convince him and 2 or
3 Shermans left the column under the
indications of the resistant.
When in the woods of Houdeng, the fighting
ended quickly: the nazi’s
troops surrended as soon as they realized that
they were being attacked by US
tanks. The son of friends of my parents,
Louis Branquart, 20 year old,
was killed in that fight. This was told a few
days later to my father in
front of me by a resistant who had joined the
tanks in the approach of the
nazis. I remember he gave his rifle to me and
my brothers for 5 minutes just
to play with in the garden.
I learnt recently that the US
soldiers were from the 3rd Armored Division of
General Maurice Rose. The US
troops in La Louviere were most probably from
the Combat Command A of that
Division under the orders of Brigadier General
Hickey , going into the
direction of Charleroi.
The B and C Combat Commands
were following a parallel direction but more on
the south. The 3rd Armoured
Division belonged to the VII Army Corps together
with the 1st Infantry Division
under the orders of General Lawton Collins.
A week or 2 later, the US
infantry occupied the schools and a hospital was
organized in a large school
named Saint Joseph. One day, an US Officer came
at our home. He was a doctor,
a first Lieutenant. He asked my father if he
could help his medical team
with some difficult cases of soldiers wounded at
their eyes because there was
no ophtalmologist available at that moment.
This Lieutenant was very kind
with my brothers and me. I remember his
christian name, William.
Later, a Captain, an ophtamologist, came also at
home. My father was assisting
him also on some occasions.
Then the hospital left
probably for another city closer to the front toward
Germany. The school remained a
sort of convalescence Unit for wounded
soldiers already in better
shape for going home or back to their normal
Units. When the Captain came
to say good bye to my father, he asked my
mother if she could send a
perfume or a scarf to his wife, which she did as
soon as this type of item was
again on the market.
He also asked my father what
he could do for thanking him for his help.
My father was just helping him
the best he could but he asked the Captain if
he could find in his medical
Unit a special very small lamp for a device
that ophtalmologists use to
examine the eyes of a patient. His lamp was not
functionning anymore. In fact
it turned out that my father was using a
device made by Zeiss-lkon, a
german brand bought before the war started and
the Captain was using an US
brand and there was no such special lamp
available in the medical Unit.
Some months later, a US
service man delivered a small box to my father:
a Zeiss-lkon lamp was in it,
thanks to the Captain who found one in Germany
for my father. Neither me nor
my mother nor my brothers remember the name of
that kind Officer. It seems to
us that he was either from New York or
Chicago.
Then for many months, La
Louviere became an important logistics centre for
the US Army. I remember that a
large gasoline station was operating at the
grand place in front of the
City Hall. During the nights, trucks were coming
in numbers for refueling. I
could see the traffic from the window of my room
and the fresh air was smelling
gasoline. Also in several fields around La
Louviere, there were large
military camps where numbers of wooden boxes were
pilling up as walls of 6/7
meter high. Some german POW were working there.
They wore the POW letters
painted in white color on the back of their
uniforms. Along a canal, the
Canal du Centre, a large washing station was
set up for cleaning and
washing the military trucks. The concrete
foundations of that station
are still there today but, strangely enough, it
is known locally as the
“Canadian docks”, although there were no Canadian
troops at all at any time in
the area!
It must be said also that the
food and the situation in general in Belgium
improved rather quickly, more
easily than in other European countries like
France and Netherlands. This
resulted from special arrangements between the
US Government and the belgian
Authorities. At that time, the belgian Congo
(today, the Zaire, in Africa)
was still a belgian colony. It was not
directly involved in the war
but the local belgian Authorities in Congo were
participating in the war
effort and were delivering large quantities of
steel, copper and other
materials to the US and, in particular, uranium
which served to the US
research for the atomic bombs. In return, the belgian
Authorities got the promise
that the US would help the belgian citizens in a
special way as soon as the
country would be free.
As a final comment, I think
all Belgians who were living during that period
did never forget the
liberation and remain deeply grateful to the so many US
Officers and soldiers who came
here to fight the enemy. And a number of them
lost their life or were
wounded to make us free of the nazi’s occupation.
Our King and the Prime
Minister were present at the commemoration ceremony
of the D-Day in Normandy,
France, and several ceremonies will be organized
in Belgium in September 1994
to remember the liberation and the courage of
the US troops, as well as the
UK troops who took part in the liberation of
the north of Belgium. In
particular, a special ceremony will be organized in
the city of Bastogne which was
in the center of the “battle of the Bulge”
around Chritmas 1944.
President Clinton is officially invited.
This will be my last “story”
on some memories of a belgian family about the
WWll. I hope that some of them
were of interest to you.
Subject: WWll
recollections/part 8
From: Philippe Watelet
In this additional
recollection, I propose to say just a few words on what I
remember about the “Market
Garden” operation and the battle of the Bulge.
May I say that in the previous
recollections, my family was involved in some
events which took place in La
Louviere. But we were not directly part of the
2 operations mentioned above.
Market garden was an airborne operation with
the objective of taking
several important bridges in Holland at Eindhoven,
Grave, Nimegue and Arnhem. It
was involving 3 airborne divisions and started
during the second part of
September 1944. At that time, the city of La
Louviere where I was living
was already liberated by the US Army. I remember
that, with 2 of my brothers, I
was playing in our garden and we saw many
DC3s towing gliders.
To get a better view on what
we had never seen before, we went quickly
upstair to look through the
open windows. These planes were flying very low
by comparison with the heavy
bombers we were used to see. This spectacle
lasted quite a long time, new
planes were always coming.
At one point in time, we could
see a glider which either broke its towing
cable or was in difficulty. It
left the main stream and had to land alone
somewhere in the fields at
about 5 Kms from La Louviere. For my parents, all
these planes and gliders were
an additional indication of the powerful
military means that the allied
forces were using against the Nazis. It gave
to all of us a feeling of
security, we were sure that the Nazis finally
would be defeated.
Later, in December (16th or
17th) 1944, the Nazis started an unexpected
offensive in the south of
Belgium and in Luxembourg. The weather was very
cold and it was snowing. We
leanrt that the Nazis were attacking very
strongly in the Ardennes
region. Locally in our city, we were astonished.
Everyone was talking about the
von Rundstedt offensive. We were all fearing
that “they” would come back
after only 3 months of freedom. Rumors were
circulating. In fact, during
months before the liberation, the Nazi’s
propaganda has been spreading
news that they had developed new types of
arms.
Even those who did not believe
that kind of publicity had to modify their
opinion when the new rockets
Vi’s and V2’s were falling on Liege and
Antwerpen. One of these Vi’s,
probably out of its normal direction, failed
on an empty house in Houdeng,
a village close to La Louviere.
So many unanswered questions
were deaply worrying the people: “what if...?,
what if...?” A sort of panic
was taking place and Chritmas 1944 was
miserable.
I also remember a serious
rumor which lasted several weeks about the “fifth
column” made of SS soldiers
wearing US uniforms, speaking English, driving
stolen jeeps and which were
disrupting US military supply convoys. At
school, my teacher was talking
to us about all that.
Then, around December 25th and
26th, the weather conditions improved
seriously. We could see lots
of US fighters (Thunderbolts and Lightnings) as
well as DC3’s and 2 engine
bombers in the sky. During the courses, our
teacher was taking us out of
the class room as soon as we heard the noise of
the aircraft. And he was
telling us “with all this, the Americans wiil stop
“them” right away!”
Later the offensive was
finally stopped. We were better informed about the
miseries of the belgian
citizens who were living in the Ardennes region. We
also learnt that the US
divisions in that sector had enormously suffered in
this terrible battle in which
they have been courageous and determinated.
In addition, crimes have been
committed by SS Units against civilians in the
village of Bande and against
US prisoners in Malmedy where 81 US soldiers
and Officers were killed.
At the end of January 1945,
the Nazis were stopped and were already
retreating with heavy losses.
I think that the battle of the Bulge was much
&nbs
