123 - Adrianus - Warning: Historical Events and Places are Referenced

We knew after they took Adrianus that we could not stay silent. When the devil knocks on your door, you don’t hide. You open the door and invite him in, then you beat him at his own game. – Ilse Uittenbroek

Camille took advantage of the stunned silence and ate her burrito. She had experienced this before. Especially from people who had only known Ilse for a brief time and late in her life. She had never been ashamed of anything that they did, or how her only child was conceived. But she also did not brag about her role in history.

According to both her and Jan, they did what they had to do.

“Cher,” Gator finally said, breaking the silence, “you’re telling us that your grandmother, your Oma, fought in World War Two?”

“Yes, and no,” she admitted as she finished off her breakfast, dropping the last third for Tink to eat. “Ilse was born in July 1929, her brother Jan, spelled J A N but pronounced Yan like Y A N, followed two years later. They were the last of the kids, there were seven all together. Oma’s mother’s mother also lived with them. Her father’s parents lived next door. Ilse and Jan were the only ones to see The Netherlands be liberated.”

She took a moment to look around and then smiled at Peanut, “There should be a box with a number one on it, will you hand it to me?”

He looked through the small stack of boxes and found the one with a giant black one on it. After she accepted the box, she ripped open the flat rate overnight shipping box and pulled out the gray material.

“This is a replica, but we believe that we have his correct number. The Germans invaded The Netherlands om May 10, 1945, and the crackdown came on slowly. Jews had to wear the double yellow triangle that created the Star of David.”

Camille smirked as she thought about the stories that her Oma and Oom Jan had told.

“When the Jews were first ordered to wear the stars, the Dutch did not conform. In other countries, the people tended to avoid any person wearing a yellow star. Avoided anyone with a triangle or double triangle. But the Dutch…”

She gave a small laugh as she gently brushed her thumb over the OZO tattoo. Shaking her head, she continued, “They walked on the same side of the street as the Jews. They did not cross the street to avoid them. The tipped their hat in respect rather than throw the rocks that other countries had done.”

“If they were line for something, the people moved the Jews to the front of the line. The Dutch people did not want the Germans there. They did not like the ideals that the Germans brought. They did not like the way that their fellow countrymen were being treated.”

“Their acts of defiance were small at first. Jewish stores were given preferential treatment. Other shopkeepers referred their shoppers to their Jewish counterparts. They themselves shopped with the Jews.”

“When the Germans saw that the Dutch were not going to follow the Nazi rules, they started cracking down.” Pausing, she gently caressed the bundle of material on her lap. “In July of 40 a new political party was started, the Netherlands Union, their sole purpose was to keep the Dutch Nazi Party from coming to power.”

“The Germans promised that if they cooperated, everything would continue as usual,” she gave another little smirk. “The Union, Nederlandse Unie or Unie, wanted to keep the Dutch culture and not have the German Nationalists take over so they agreed to … cooperate.”

“But they did not cooperate, did they?” Mitch asked.

“They did to a certain extent, but not as much as the Germans wanted,” Camille grinned. “They used the air raid defense as a way of moving around and performing acts of rebellion. The Germans tried to create a bond of brotherhood between the two countries. They created the Winter Help organization and said that it was for the Dutch people in need.”

“The Dutch did not willingly donate to it, and many were imprisoned for openly defying the Germans. It did not stop them and even made them even more determined. They did blatant civil disobedience, and they did subtle little jabs. The Prince always wore a carnation on his lapel. On his birthday in June, a silent protest was made and became known as the Carnation protest when almost everyone wore a carnation.”

“People wore the color orange and gave their children Orange names. They were the names of the royal family and traditional Dutch names.”

“Is that why your tattoo is orange?” Vin asked. “The O Z O?”

Camille nodded, “*O zo!* It’s short for *Oranje zal overwinnen*. Orange will triumph. The old flag of The Netherlands had orange in it, and it became the color of resistance.”

“How long were the Germans there?” Nicki asked.

“May tenth of 1940 to May fifth of 1945. Almost exactly five years. Ilse was ten, nearly eleven when they came and fifteen when they left. She turned sixteen on the boat to Boston.”

Very carefully, she unfolded the cloth that was still sitting on her lap, “Everyone knows the yellow star, but there were other triangles too. The one that first hit our family was the pink triangle. It was given to homosexuals. Adrianus was picked up on his way home from classes in April of 41. He was twenty-one years, nine months and seventeen days old the last time he was seen by any of his family.”

“He was going to school to be a doctor like his father and grandfather,” laying out the shirt, she traced the inverted pink triangle on the left breast. “Because he went to the gay clubs, women felt more comfortable going to him. Even though he was still in school, they still went to him.”

“After his arrest, he was sent to Auschwitz and then to Birkenau where he was subjected to medical experiments. In all honesty, these medical experiments were nothing short of torture. He did not see his twenty-third birthday.”

She took a deep breath and wiped at the tears on her cheeks. Camille knew that to truly understand why her grandmother had done what she did, you had to know the why. Ilse’s oldest brother, and favorite among her siblings was the reason. And to keep her younger brother safe. Especially when she saw the papers with Jan’s name on them.

“Peanut, box number two, please.”

Her voice was rough with emotion and thick with tears. Yet no one said anything as she received the second box. Again, she ripped open the tab and pulled out the contents. This one had a black binder with a picture of the infamous Auschwitz gate on the front cover.

“I’m not going to go through this, I’ve looked at it enough times to know that I don’t need to see that ever again. That has official numbers, documentation, and proof of the worst of humanity. Where the black clips hold the pages together, there’s graphic pictures. Look at your own risk.”

She sat the binder aside, Peanut handed her the box marked number three. “Thank you. “Now, we’re getting to the Oma is a kick ass bitch part of the war.”

*Information for these chapters have been taken from Verzetsmuseum (Dutch Resistance Museum) website www.verzetsmuseum.org the Imperial War Museum website www.iwm.org.uk the Auschwitz-Birkenau Memorial and Museum website www.auschwitz.org and documentaries found on www.PBS.com*

*Although the story lines concerning Oma Uittenbroek and her family are completely fictional, the actions of the brave members of the Dutch Resistance helped lead to liberation of The Netherlands and the Nazi Regime.*