By Hilda van Stockum
The story of a German girl in Holland during World War II.
Resistance in Amsterdam.
“So you’re falsifying papers,” said Janna. “You belong to the Dutch Resistance.” She looked at him curiously.
The boy shrugged his shoulders. “You could call it that. I’m just helping the van Arkels rescue innocent people from certain death. They need these identification papers and food cards to keep alive. If you betray me, all these people will either starve or be forced to give themselves up to be sent to the gas chambers of a concentration camp.”
“Gas chambers?” Janna looked at the boy with horror. “You mean . . . they are all killed?”
The boy looked sternly at her. “Do you think,” he said, “that Germany is sending Jews to a nice vacation in a spa, or to pretty villages with geraniums in the windows? That’s what we were told at first, though in Holland we never believed it. We got the Jewish children that were chased over the Dutch border by frantic parents and left wandering through the woods of eastern Holland with no place to go. Mrs. van Arkel and other women collected them in their cars and found homes for them. Do you think those parents thought they were being sent to pretty villages? But even in Holland we did not know the worst till last year, through Radio Orange.”
“It may be enemy propaganda . . . ” began Janna.
The boy shook his head . . .