Potatoes have been a staple in the Netherlands for hundreds of years. A favourite in the Dutch diet as well as the Germans. Brought to Europe from South America by Spanish explorers and it had made its way to the table of all its neighbours.
One of the Vincent van Gogh's sketches depicting the Dutch potato eaters.
During the Nazis occupation of our village, along the North Sea, my mother was left supporting herself and my two sisters. Part of the community was on top of the dunes and a clear view of the open sea. Several bunkers and a radar station were soon built. Along with the construction came an army of hungry young men who needed food.
The Nazi barracks hired local females as potato peelers. My mother took the paying job as a peeler. Hidden behind a large pile of potatoes, she kept her eyes and ears open and any information was passed on to the underground. She advised them of several planned raids, giving the local men a chance to go into hiding.
After the war liberations, the locals started rounding up the collaborators. Females who had been in the company of soldiers during the war were manhandled and place on a truck. They were then driven through the streets to the local square for shaming and a hair shearing.
Someone had spotted my mother going into the barracks, with a finger pointing at her, they lifted her into the truck. Men from the underground quickly stepped forward, took her down and said she wasn’t part of it, but helped them instead.
My innocent mother witnessed the shaming at the square and had been spared from an appalling haircut.
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