Arnhem

Not surprisingly, the van Maanen household spent a restless night, wondering about tomorrow. Anje woke early. ‘At 6 a.m. I hear my brother sneaking down the stairs and I get out of my bed and follow him into the spare room, which has a view over the road outside. Have the Tommies come? Or are the Germans still here? We can’t see properly because it is still dark but we can just make out a line of soldiers shuffling very quickly beneath the trees. We think they must be Tommies but we don’t want to call out because if they are Germans we are sure to be shot.’ Suddenly her Aunt Anke put an end to the uncertainty. She flung open her bedroom window and shouted out cheerfully to the men outside, ‘Good morning,’ in English. Back came a hissed answer, ‘Good morning to you too.’ Anje thrilled to the greeting from what was an advance patrol, scouting ahead of the main pack. ‘These whispering figures in the darkness are Tommies. We are free, free, free!’ Many years later, she would try to put into words the elation she felt in that moment, but there were none in her vocabulary or anyone else’s to do the occasion justice. ‘Seeing the Tommies was just so wonderful. Here were our saviours. To see their friendly faces was just overwhelming. After four years, our ordeal was over. We were free at last.’

Impulsively, she didn’t wait to dress but pulled a coat over her dressing gown and rushed down to the street. ‘Aunt Anke and I walk along beside a British soldier and we ask him all sorts of questions. I dash back home and down to the cellar to pick up a basket of food, fruits and sweets. I go back up to the street, where it is now a little lighter, and crowds of people in their pyjamas are coming out with cups of tea and coffee, bread, pears, apples to welcome our liberators. I offer fruit to the soldiers and try to say something but I am terribly shy and no words come out so I just smile at them. When my basket is empty I hurry home and get some more. All of us are so excited and we hand out everything we have. And then we go home to dress up in our smartest clothes because today is a feast day and a celebration. At home, I find Aunt Anke dusting her room. She must be mad. Who can dust on a day like this?’

The centre of Oosterbeek was now filling with British troops. What impressed Marie-Anne as she joined the crowds welcoming them was the sheer number of the soldiers and how well equipped they were, not just arriving on foot but with jeeps and tracked vehicles. ‘All the jeeps have radios, the long aerials swishing behind.’ Kate ter Horst marvelled at the ‘impossible, incredible’ sight of the British on the streets of her town, ‘like a long green serpent, a couple of yards between each of them. One gives a jolly laugh from under his helmet and spreads out his arms. “Give me a kiss!” he says and then he is gone. Behind him they come in endless files, with a rhythmical movement.’ The steady march of the paras was an eye-opener to a people weary of jackboots. ‘We are so accustomed to the noisy marching of the Germans that we stare and stare at soldiers who are not marching and yet proceed in perfect order. Big fellows in khaki coats with countless pockets, which absorb the apples and tomatoes we offer them. Orange streamers and flags, flowers and cheering, people embracing each other in joy.’ A church bell, which the Germans had missed when they were seizing metal to be sent back to the weapons factories in the Ruhr, began to ring, pushed to and fro by two villagers with their feet because there was no rope.