Her story: Berta Roefs

September 17 is an unforgettable day for me and my family. That Sunday in
September didn’t start of as it used to. We didn’t visit mass because pastor van
Hussen warned us on Friday that the Germans would take the women for labor work
at the airfield in Eindhoven. The men would have to dig trenches. So we decided to
stay at home and take care of family van Dinther, who fled their house with six
children on September 14. The oldest child was 11-years-old and the youngest
1,5-years-old. Our father once said that the English would liberate us one day, how
they would do that wasn’t really clear for us. That Sunday we were preparing lunch
when suddenly we heard planes outside. It was about 11.00 hours when we heard
airplane engines roaring over the fields. The airplanes came from the direction of
Best and started strafing and bombing the woods south of our house. Later we
understood that these planes were securing the dropzone for the paratroopers who
would jump over the fields behind our house. At 11.30 hours we learned that our
neighbor, Kees Coppelmans was hit and died during the strafing runs. My sister Dora
went towards the place where Kees was hit to see if she could be of any assistance.
Piet and Cor, who were kept in hiding at our house from the Germans, went along
with her. They wrapped the body in a blanket and brought it to the Sweren family,
who also lived in the Sonniuswijk. The father and daughter of the Coppelmans family
were retrieving the cows from the field, but they  got wounded too during the strafing
runs and two cows died.

At about 12.30 hours we sat at the kitchen table eating our lunch, when dad picked
us up and sent us to the air raid shelter, which was made by my father in the orchard
underneath an apple tree behind our house. My father, Piet and Cor stayed behind in
the house. We didn’t know what was going on, but we trusted our father’s
judgement. Just minutes later we heard airplane engines and anti-aircraft fire,
something special must be going on. Looking from the air raid shelter we could see
colored parachutes floating above our barn. We prayed to the Lord that he would
keep us safe. We knew the British army had crossed the Belgian border so we
thought the noise had something to do with the Germans stopping them from
reaching Son. As we sat in the air raid shelter, suddenly we heard boots just a few
feet away from the entrance. The only thing we were thinking of was that when we
would leave the shelter, we would be facing the barrel of a gun that would make an
end to our life. My sister and I embraced our mother tighter and tighter. A few
minutes later Piet came to tell us that American soldiers were landing in the fields
behind our house. Piet gave us some chocolate and cigarettes that he got from the
American soldiers. This was a relieve to us. At about 14.30 hours we left the air raid
shelter and we were surprised to see that a parachute was draped over the roof of
our shelter. One of the soldiers must have landed on top of the shelter. That is
probably why we heard the footsteps of a soldier. When we entered the barn we saw
three wounded American soldiers on the ground. One was heavily wounded, two had
minor injuries. We were struck by this scene and I can’t express in words what I felt
when I saw these men. Worst thing was, we couldn’t express our feelings to these
men, because we simply didn’t speak their language. Later we understood that the
American medics needed bandages, we solved that by giving them some old blankets

and some other things we could find. Hour by hour, more wounded men were brought to our farm. When Dora and I went outside to see what was
going on, we saw that the Americans had set up a first-aid-station at the back of our farm. The Americans put sentries on both sides of the house.
With sign language they made clear that Son would be clear of Germans soon. We were very worried about our brother Bertus, who left for
Schijndel in the morning by bike to visit his fiancé. But luckily he returned home at 17.00 hours. This must have been a big relief to our parents.
It was a day with mixed emotions. We didn’t really understand what was going on and what the war was about, but now war was all around our
house. At about 0.30 hours I went to bed, but I didn’t get much sleep because I was thinking of all the things I’d seen during the day. When we
got up in the morning more wounded men were brought to the barn. We were surprised to see how relaxed  these men were. Even the wounded
were really calm and they received great help from the American medics. How could they still be so friendly while they were lying there on the
ground wounded? It was truly disappointing that we couldn’t talk with these men. My sister Dora and I did our daily routines, milking and feeding
the cows, doing our chores inside the house.

Photos: The Roefs and van Dinther family posing with two American
soldiers at the Helena hoeve, the farm of the Roefs family.
Bottom picture, from left to right, Mother Roefs, Mother van Dinther,
Berta Bekkers-Roefs, Vincent Arts (American medic), Antoon van Dinther,
Cor Wilbers and Bertus Roefs. Bottom row: Theo van Dinther, Leo van
Dinther, unknown American soldier, Dora Giebels-Roefs and Johan van
Dinther.