All of Us Remember

Part of the wall the german's built around Zandvoort, Holland

I recall as a child the stories told from days of old. 

My grandfather having to hid under a bridge, so he could bring milk to his baby daughter (my mother), in the hospital; trembling in his boots as German soldiers walked by. You see, no one was allowed on the streets after dark, you could get shot, but a baby still needs to eat. 

Stories of my father having to eat tulip bulbs; the hunger pains of a war torn world. Then liberation and chocolate bars, when the Canadians came. 

Stories of a desperate, torn world that I have difficulty even imagining for I have lived my whole life in a world of peace. 


Thank-you grandparents for your courage.
Thank-you parents for sharing the stories.
Thank-you to the Canadian soldiers who liberated my family.


Anuschka de la Court


Here are a few words from those who remember:


Wim de la Court:

Wim and older sister Leni

 I was Born in 1940, and lived my young years during the war. In 1942 and 1943 the Allied bombers came over our house, they were aiming for  the railway repair shops; to stop the army of occupation to use the railway system. But, some of the bombs didn't hit he target. 

At the same time the German army, occupying Holland was rounding up every male who was able to work. They wanted sturdy men to work in their factories, luckily my father was sick, so he was able to stay home. He helped the underground movement by printing flyer's and news papers.

 Winter in 1944 was hard, there was no food and we had to eat dogs, cats, ducks, goats, tulip bulbs and sucker beets. Finally in May 1945, we heard the Canadian pipers crossing the bridge; and the first time in my young life we ate chocolate, cookies, chewing gum and white bread that tasted like cake. I remember feeling such joy sitting on the tanks and trucks of our liberators; and still after so many years when I hear the pipers on Canada Day or Remembrance Day the goose bumps and emotion overwhelm me. 

Thank you to all the Canadian soldiers 

Wim de la Court

 Jacoba Menks, my father's sister:

3 generations of Canadians

All of us remember the stories about wars and soldiers. The lives lost, so that we can live our lives in peace.

It's therefore, that I remember, those Canadians, who liberated my parents, sister, two brothers and Oma, in Haarlem-The Netherlands, 1945.

I was born in 1946, but I started to understand during the 1950's, what their lives had been about during those years of occupation by the Germans. We learned in school, about the hunger, the camps, the underground movement (of which my Dad was an active member), the loyalty to the Royal family, the small space in Ottawa (declared Dutch soil), Princess Margriet and the loss of a very small baby (a little sister none of us would ever get to know). We learned from our parents, that the hardships were worth every razzia, every shared potato, every hour of fear, every bombing, simply because it made the Dutch people strong knowing, that somewhere out there, there were Canadians fighting for their freedom!

And so it is no  newsflash, that I became a proud Canadian in 1975, after having made a choice in 1968 to immigrate to this beautiful country, to live and work and raise two beautiful children in total freedom and acceptance.

Please take a moment out of your busy lives, and remember those, who gave their lives for our freedom.

And when you hear the bagpipes, that longing sound, it's o.k. to feel a tear run down your cheek, for the longing belongs to the families left behind.

There will always be soldiers, giving their lives, so remember those of the past, respect those in our present and admire those in our future on this the 11th minute of the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month......................................