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Post by Mevrouw Van Gaal on Jun 3, 2015 16:21:36 GMT
"What is there to tell," Mrs Van Gaal said, weary. "He rose in the morning and drank bad coffee. He went out to work, very early. He did not return. That evening one of his comrades, a friend, came to my house. Hermann had not returned. He was not dead, he was not wounded. He was simply gone, and twelve other men with him."
She straightened her skirt, a nervous action, just for something to do.
"I was questioned because I was close to him. Had he told me about the razzia beforehand. No, he had not. Had I told anyone about it? No I did not know about it. Who had I told about it? No one, because I did not know about it. On and on. The gestapo do not stop asking their questions, not until there is nothing left in you to resist. And I still did not know. Thirteen men, vanished without a trace. They waited for demands, threats, bodies to show up floating in the canals. Nothing. Nothing."
She was trembling a little, remembering.
"I had put it away. And now you come here. Why? What is Hermann to you?"
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Post by Hugo Allbrass on Jun 3, 2015 16:23:45 GMT
Allbrass' face revealed nothing. There was no point telling this woman something she could not understand.
"We're looking into the case," he said, "trying to make sense of it. I'm sorry if this is difficult. Were there any explanations? Any theories?"
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Post by Mevrouw Van Gaal on Jun 3, 2015 16:26:19 GMT
The woman shook her head.
"No. Nobody knew, nobody cared."
She paused
"Later, after the liberation, there was Marten. He had been sent away. He said he had seen the men before they vanished. That they entered a house and did not come out. But he was drunk, and is half mad from what they did to him. He may be dead. I don't know."
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Post by Marisa Blanton on Jun 3, 2015 16:39:46 GMT
"Where do you..." She corrected herself, remembering the woman could not understand her and addressed Marie instead, "does she have any idea of where we could find him?" And what had they done to him?. The last he left unsaid, not really wanting an answer.
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Post by Marie Boogaart on Jun 3, 2015 16:43:04 GMT
Marie's arms crossed themselves a little less tightly over her chest. You had to feel a little bad for this woman. Of course the krautz would have suspected her, and not taken no for an answer. People didn't just disappear into nothing, not in the muggle world.
She passed on the question. She could only imagine what happened to Marten, and preferred not to.
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Post by Mevrouw Van Gaal on Jun 3, 2015 18:02:00 GMT
"Marten? He was taken to Mauthausen after the razzia. Perhaps they thought he was sheltering someone. I don't know. But they took him. I didn't know him then. Now? I believe he was in hospital for a while. You know, for his head? He came back a little crazy."
A memory came back to her.
"He works there now. A volunteer I think. With the nuns, on the Prinsengracht"
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Post by Marie Boogaart on Jun 3, 2015 18:37:00 GMT
She might almost sympathise with her, but it was too soon.
"Did Marten mention anything else about Raubal? They entered the house and then what happened? Could he hear anything inside? Violence? Shouting?"
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Post by Mevrouw Van Gaal on Jun 3, 2015 18:45:51 GMT
"I don't know what else he might have said," she sighed, "He was just a crazy drunk. The story got back to me, but I didn't exactly seek him out. It was two years after. I didn't care."
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Post by Marie Boogaart on Jun 3, 2015 19:14:17 GMT
They weren't going to get more here, that was clear. She stood up from her seat.
"Thank you Miss. Van Gaalen. I think that's all?" She looked at Hugo for confirmation.
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Post by Hugo Allbrass on Jun 3, 2015 21:13:31 GMT
"you've been very helpful," said Allbrass rising to his feet, "I'm... eh... sorry if our vist awoke bad memories."
He put on his hat as Mrs Van Gaal showed them to the door.
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Post by Marie Boogaart on Jun 3, 2015 21:18:05 GMT
"Let's go find Marten. If he's still there."
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Post by Hugo Allbrass on Jun 3, 2015 21:20:53 GMT
Allbrass nodded and they began to walk away from the Van Gaal house.
"Three years, eh?" he said. "I wasn't expecting that."
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Post by Marisa Blanton on Jun 3, 2015 21:22:14 GMT
"That's a long time. I thought the bastsrds were more well organized than that."
"Where is the Prinsengracht? I'm assuming that's another canal?"
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Post by Marie Boogaart on Jun 3, 2015 21:24:38 GMT
"It is not much stranger than one year. However, it leaves the question how a 'mof' lives and then dies in England a year after the war ends."
"It's this way I think." She led the way. She could ask about a hospital when they were there.
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Post by Hugo Allbrass on Jun 3, 2015 21:33:36 GMT
The three of them reached the Prinsengracht and soon found their way to Onze Lieve Vrouwe Gasthuis a small hospital run by Catholic nuns. The sister who greeted them listened to Allbrass's fictitious reasons for visiting with Marten and reluctantly agreed to it.
"He's better than he was," she warned the trio sternly, "but he has been through a lot. Do not distress him."
She showed them to a small garden at the rear of the building, little more than a walled in yard with a tree growing in it. A tall skinny man was raking up the leaves.
"This is Marten," said the sister and she left them alone there.
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