A May 5 Holland Liberation Day Tribute to My Great Aunt

I could try to say that this article is about the impact of engagement. The deeds that earned my great aunt Petronella (Nel) Bolger recognition from Dwight D. Eisenhower, later US President, and Allied Expeditionary Force Field Marshall Sir Authur Tedder after World War II reinforces the incredible and collective power of individual engagement toward the accomplishment of any goal, as noble as the liberation of Europe or what we do every day for our families, organizations, communities, in addition to ourselves.

But I confess, it’s a combination of sadness that so many incredible stories like Nel’s will forever go untold, despite the incalculable impact their courage had on so many lives, and with pride that I share this story we recently found cleaning up family papers.

This incredible story of a woman in Holland during World War II story is true, documented not only by the actual original certificates in recognition of Nel's heroism in my possession and shown in this article; the fact that Nel over the years made a few vague references to her exploits without bragging about them, but most of all because of the letters shared below from some of her best friends written to her sister, my great aunt, right after Holland’s liberation in the spring of 1945. I came across these letters cleaning up some family papers.

A big thanks to my uncle Dan Bolger , whose assistant Michelle Dille prepared this document from faded onion skin paper translations prepared by my grandfather John Bolger after World War II.

These are letters written by Mr. and Mrs. Hils Soeters, among Nel's close friends, dated June 10, 1945, written from the town where these events largely unfolded. (Holland was occupied by the Germans on May 10, 1940. German forces in Holland surrendered on May 5th 1945.) Note the language used in these letters has not been updated to today's norms.

Letters written from Beverwijk, Holland, June 10, 1945 (five weeks after liberation). There is a bed and breakfast that carries the name of the residence Uitwijck, but I do not know if it is the same home.

Dear Mrs. Helbling: (Nel’s sister, who was in Switzerland with her husband during the war.)

You may be surprised to receive a letter from my wife, and even more that I write to you.?With our letter we enclose three pieces of paper, which have become pretty ragged in the time they were in my possession.?Nel gave them to me one and a half year ago with the request to write to you “in case this became necessary.”?Fortunately it has not become “necessary,” although she escaped a terrible fate by a hair.?For it really is a miracle that she is alive today.

I will try to give you a description of what happened on “Uitwijck” (her home in Holland) during the war years, most of which no one knows about.

A Little Background

Uitwijck is a very large formal residence, with a very large fruit and vegetable garden, and was owned by her Uncle (Oom) Jan Dekker, a retired wealthy lumber man who owned a sawmill and imported a great deal of logs from all over the world.?He married her aunt Mien later in life. They had no children.?He was a typical old Holland Dutchman. The story goes that he was traveling in a first-class compartment on the train with a man who smoked.?Om Jan opened a window, it was winter and the man closed it.?Uncle Jan opened it, the man closed it, Uncle Jan took off his shoe and smashed the window, called the conductor, and happily paid the damage.

Nel had completed her nursing training (at Johns Hopkins in the USA), but after losing one kidney and never having been strong, she made a career of taking care of a mother and baby upon arrival home from the hospital, and of taking care of elderly people both as a nurse and as companion. In doing so, she became acquainted with the best families of Holland and made many lifelong friends.?When Tante Mien became ill (both being in their seventies, she offered to help out in running the household in Uitwijck and was wonderful company for Om Jan.?However. Tante Mien died before the outbreak of the war, and Oom Jan died very shortly after the Germans occupied Holland. Uitwijck was commandeered for officers’ headquarters and an officers club. Nel was allowed to occupy the third floor under the roof of this very large house. The occupying forces originally were reserve officers from Austria, the commanding officer in private life being a surgeon.

Her Entry Into the Resistance, a Kindly Austrian, Increasing Risks

One day in August 1941, Nel visited a Dutch farm family living among the dunes which line the Dutch coast (not far from her home) and decided to take a walk. Suddenly she ran into an Englishman in uniform whose plane had been shot down and who had been hiding in the dunes.?He had an address on him of someone in Amsterdam where he said he could get help, but he had been forced to leave his hiding place in the dunes. He seemed extremely tired. Nel decided to smuggle him up to her rooms on the third floor. Then being a nurse she realized that the man was not tired but was in the first stages of getting pneumonia. A few days later his condition was close to a crisis.?Nursing him in a cubbyhole under the roof was sure to lead to detection. Getting a local doctor to attend to him would invite the risk of detection not only for her, she had conceded that, but also of the doctor. Detection meant death before a firing squad as she knew executions for giving aid to the enemy were carried out almost daily in those days in Holland.?

What to do??She requested an interview with Dr. Reck, the German (Austrian) officer who was quartered in Uitwijck. In putting her cards on the table she risked death, but knowing he was a civilian in normal life, she took the risk. He went up with her, treated the Englishman and gave her the vital medicines so she could nurse him back to health. This took seven weeks in which time three different groups of Germans lived on the floors below her. Neither the gardener who had stayed on or the maid could be informed of what was going on. No one will ever know of the many pitfalls that had to be avoided, and the tension under which she lived. Nel then undertook to take the flier to Amsterdam by train, she in her nurse’s uniform, he disguised as a simple-minded Dutchman she had to take to an institution.?

German soldiers check all trains and demand identification papers. But from Amsterdam she had to take him to another town from where he was secretly forwarded back to England. In Amsterdam, she came in contact with the secret organization that had established channels that reached to the coast, the only way to escape for those who were hunted by the Germans for execution.?Willy-nilly, she had become a part of this organization, when in the dead of night, a Hollander brought her another flyer and later another one yet. Both were unhurt, and after a week and ten days she managed to get them back on the road to England and received word later that all three were safe. The mere fact that if one of these men had been captured with her address on his person would have led to her immediate arrest. And, all of this time, Germans lived on the two lower floors of Uitwijck and had their parties and drinking bouts with their women.

At the secret headquarters in Amsterdam, she got acquainted with a man who headed up this group which also was engaged in espionage and general resistance. One of the problems was to obtain weapons of all sorts.?Because of the officers club being at Uitwijck, this would ease the problem. You may be surprised to learn this, but once having started, Nel became bolder and bolder.?One evening whilst a big wild party was in progress, she gathered up all the revolvers and ammunition belts in the hall and took them to her quarters. To top it off, the Germans made her open her suitcase in the train to Amsterdam where guns were hidden among her nurses uniforms. Nel possesses a steel nerve will power and refinement that no one knowing her slightly would suspect.?

There was a raid on Amsterdam headquarters and the top man and several coworkers were caught and shot. Another took his place; ?he was caught and then a third, who in his zeal really exploited her. High risk jobs were assigned to her, no others could fulfill, and many times she was saved as by a miracle.?Among these was a plot to spring the former leader from prison, but it failed. The Gestapo became suspicious and sent men out to bring her in for questioning.?Six times they came. The first time she was not home, but the Germans questioned a policeman, also German, but a man devoted to a Major Schlegal, also a reserve office with whom Nel talked many times. The policeman argued them out of waiting for her. But they returned at night. Again her friend threw them off the track. Another time, she was alone in the house and refused to answer the bell that rang and rang. Then they caught her home, but she insisted that they could question her there.?With her fluent German and the Germans being simple farm boys, she managed to put on an air of absolute innocence and the men left again.

The Loss of the Love of Her Life?

They came back once more but this was close to the end of the war; they were not too insistent and she refused to go along. After the third visit Nel openly approached a policeman and the result was that he did everything in his power to delay her arrest and tipped her off when another visit was due. Yet it leaked out that I was a man with when she was in frequent contact, an officer’s aide reported me. This was true enough. I had spent hours with her trying to convince her that it was only a matter of time and that she should go undercover--hide out somewhere.?But her friend the policeman tipped her off that if she should disappear, which would be a sign of guilt, they would immediately arrest me and get the truth out of me. This was the plan.?So she refused to go under cover. You must understand that it was the practice of the Germans to try to catch one member of the underground; take him or her to headquarters and torture him until he gave away the name of other members of the ring; then arrest them and shoot them without further trial. So, I offered to go underground, but Nel told me that in that case she would commit suicide so that I and my wife and children would be out of danger. ?What drove her on?

Nel had fallen deeply in love with a man who was the head of the resistance in Amsterdam, where she had delivered her first English flyer. ?It had gone as far as that they planned to be married after the war. But in the meantime, he being known to so many people his life was in constant danger. And he was arrested, tortured terribly and finally shot. In order not to be able to reveal his name in case she was caught, she steadfastly refused to know his second name. All she knew was that his parents were violently opposed to his being in this kind of work. Nel did talk to a man who was in prison with him, and escaped, but on that day, she did not ask his name and then the man was caught again and also shot. Now it is too late.?All together she has been under an unimaginable strain and she is not too well physically as you know.

Do not thank us. Nel has done very much for us, particularly when our new baby died in February.?If he had been a girl we would have named him for her.

This is the end of the letter written by Mr. Soeters. Here are excerpts of a letter from Mrs. Soeters.

At Nel’s request, I was kept out of the real activities that went on for security reasons, but I was well aware of the tensions and the ups and downs of the secret activities, whereas my husband had her full confidence. Outwardly she led a perfectly normal life, clear up till the end as she refused to go under cover. Others did this but they usually worked with a small group of friends or trusted relatives. Nel was alone except for my husband who often scolded her for her recklessness. For outsiders she was the chatelaine of Uitwyck who had her hands full with the Germans who occupied her house and who was responsible for the care of two old aunts across the street, who shared the fruits of her large garden with those who were in need, radiantly happy to be of help. Yet each ringing of the doorbell could mean a German, each creaking of the garden gate could mean the end. Each night a bottomless pit of black fear. If she had been out, what would she find at home, who might be hiding in the bushes ready to spring on her? The men always carried weapons and walked with one hand in their pocket on their revolvers, she had no weapons, only her self-control and the feminine intuition. And those weapons served her well in her unavoidable contact with the ever-changing German officers, or in her work for the Dutch underground.?When our child was born and died (if it had been a girl, we would have named it for her) she received a very sharp warning that the Germans were on to her, and she better disappear quickly. After all, the ways to England were wide open for her with her connections but she flatly refused, so she could help me.

Thank God it is over, she is alive and can go to Switzerland.?I know I may forget it all; she cannot, but she may regain some of physical strength that she expended in these terrible years.

Note: Nel went on to live a long life in Holland dearly loved by her family and friends but never married.