Memories.

I'm back home after a great week stay in Annapolis. As I unzip my suitcase and re-settle into my old room, I can't help but notice a pile of paper scraps scribbled with notes and quotes from my visit.

• I've noticed Grandpa likes to use two words in particular when speaking: "tremendous" and "theoretically."
  
• During the winter of 1944, Grandpa was taken by the Nazis at the time of the razia (or razzia in Dutch). From 29 December '44 - 25 July '45, Grandpa was a prisoner of war and forced laborer for the Germans. One afternoon during tea, Grandpa called led me into his office and handed me a passport-size leather bound book. On the front, worn gold letters read SOLDBUCH (German for "soldier's small book"). I flipped open to the first page and saw a black and white photo of Grandpa. He was barely 21. Authorities had stamped a swastika (sickening to look at) over the photo in order to attach it to the yellowish page. Someone had scribbled Holländer below his photo. Overnight, Grandpa had lost all of his belongings. Hundreds of other Dutchmen faced the same fate. Grandpa lived in an empty German military base and wore an old German uniform as his only piece of clothing. The Nazis put him on a train which ran across Germany for many weeks. During these trips by train with other forced laborers, the train was bombed by Allied forces (unaware that POW's were riding inside). One of his last assignments was to dig huge holes and clean up areas that had been bombed.
  
• As a POW and forced laborer in the middle of a bitter winter, Grandpa told me that his whole conception of right and wrong shifted temporarily. Stealing became a necessity. Grandpa and dozens of other men and boys taken by the Nazis snuck into a train car carrying packages for Nazi soldiers. He says he recalls breaking open one box and finding a loaf of raisin bread. Most likely, a package from a mother to her son on the battlefield (fighting for the Axis powers). Grandpa took the bread and left the package. Did he feel bad about it? "No." he said. Actually, Grandpa's timing was perfect: "A few hours later, a bomb was dropped by Allied forces on the train in which we rode. The car carrying mail and packages for German soldiers was destroyed. We found the food just in time..."
  
• After the war, people labeled the men and boys who were taken by the Nazis during the razia as traitors. Grandpa told his story to a local minister who wrote a formal letter explaining that Grandpa had in fact been forced into the German Luftwaffe - in other words: involuntarily. Grandpa said he did this as a precaution, especially given his interest in moving to the USA and starting a career there. He let me examine the minister's letter, which he had saved all this time.
  
• Grandpa is the bravest, most courageous man I've ever known. In the wake of the violence, starvation, and death that enveloped World War II Nazi-occupied Holland, Grandpa looks back on his time as a POW with a flicker of optimism. "It was hard to be away from home, not knowing really what would become of us," Grandpa said. He continued - shocking me with his positive spirit: "During my time in Germany, however, I was really able to improve my German." WHAT? I think this is the ultimate example of turning something ugly, painful, and terrible into something useful. I can learn a lot from my Grandpa's strength and endurance.
  
• Grandpa grew up really poor. In fact, his parents were so poor that they actually gave my Grandpa away to be cared for by another family until his father earned enough money to feed two other mouths aside from his own (at that time, Grandpa's mother was living in Holland) Grandpa recalls meeting his younger brother for the first time years later.
  

bisous.