"We were led to different rooms, our belongings taken away for inspection. They immediately started to interrogate us. After everybody had been questioned we had the privilege of being kept back. The Gestapo quickly rattled questions at us and I told him that we looked for work as the other job had finished. They checked through our pockets and even afterwards checked our naked bodies.
The Gestapo found a photo of my grandparents, parents and I, in front of our cafe in Ostend. Nothing special about that except it showed Pale Ale and Guiness Stout advertised in the windows. One Gestapo shouted, "that's English"". One of the other Gestapo interjected and said that some of the Flemish used to import their beers, which we did...
They then asked another seemingly innocent question after they found the schedule for the trains to St. Jean De Luze, which was another stop nearer the border... There his reasoning stopped abruptly..... I realized I had to leave now or never. There was nothing else left to do. I knew about the cruel torture methods once you were in their hands and the weakening of the spirit and the body with it, nobody knew! You had to make up your mind to resist beforehand.
I did not feel ready for that yet!
Looking around like a cornered animal I noticed a Gestapo man tired and dozing in the next room, which had access to a balcony where the double glass doors were open because of the midday heat. Daniel was just putting on this clothes and the other prisoners were being shuffled away to lower jails or cells.
This was my opportunity! I had a folded knife in my hand which had been overlooked during my search as it was held in my clenched fist when my hands were up. Daniel was nearly dressed so I shouted, "come quickly",he froze as usual! Far too slow with his guard holding him. I was off like an arrow from a bow, swift, light footed with my sandals on for fast running.
The dozing man never woke up as I passed him in my lightening run, which I had anticipated. Literally diving from the railings on the balcony, disregarding the drop from the first floor to the pavement, I put my hands on the balustrade to make a good jump which I had rehearsed a thousand times before.
Unfortunately, my foot must have dragged a bit because one of the straps on my sandal must have got caught. My foot touched the upper bar and I started turning in mid-air and coming with a thump down on the pavement. I landed on my behind and back, the impact of which gave me a slight concussion but luckily for me no broken bones, just a dent in my pride for the poor jump.
Within a few seconds I noticed the hulk of a grinning Gestapo man above me leaning over the balcony and struggling to get his pistol out of the holster and putting his finger on the trigger. To his complete amazement and mine nothing happened, the bullet was a dud!
I quickly got up and made for the first corner I could see to try to avoid the shooting which I knew would follow, running in a zig zag fashion to make it more difficult to take aim. So far so good! I escaped just the same, not the way I expected it but away! Just before taking the blind corner for cover the salvo's went off and one of them pierced my right hand entering through my wrist and coming out of the palm of my hand slightly touching my fingers, it felt like a heavy blow. The rest of the bullets flying around my ears which were deafening. I held my hand more by impulse than pain and turned the corner, blood was pouring which caused me to hurry more to be free of the firing ....."
To be continued ....
Typing that made me feel tense and sad for what my Dad suffered so I am stopping right here!
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