I have come across a few photocopied pages from a history book on the second world war in the Netherlands concerning the activities of the underground on the Dutch island of Flakkee.

In the fall of 1944 until the liberation in May 1945. This is of particular interest for our family because the central player was Leo Jacobs. He is the father of Annie Jacobs, your mother, mother-in-law and grandmother. To set the stage for what follows you should know that Flakkee (officially Goeree-Over Flakkee), the island in green in the map below was still under German control in the fall of 1944. Also, the island just south of Flakkee, called Schouwen, and the Netherlands to the north of Flakkee were under German control. The area to the east of Flakkee, called Brabant, and south of Schouwen were free, having been liberated in the early autumn months. I was six months old and in the eastern part of Brabant when we were liberated in October 1944. Tilburg, a city mentioned below from which allied planes flew, was in Brabant, less than an hour's drive today from Flakkee. Rotterdam, to the northeast of Flakkee, was also under German control.

Photos of Princess Juliana (later Queen) and her husband Prince Bernhard at the farm of Leo Jacobs applying a decoration for his work

With the help of Stefan and Google Translate and some further editing of the Dutch text on my part with some help from my wife, here is the excerpt. Note that the author uses the present tense a lot and speaks at times as if he is Leo Jacobs. Enjoy.

Gerry Van Kessel

Excerpt

When the connections to Rotterdam became very difficult, the messages from Flakkee were sent through to the Allies (in Brabant)... Two men carried out this extremely dangerous work.

One of the men who helped operate the transmitter is now willing to tell you how it actually went.

In the autumn of 1944, two young men from Brabant went to Flakkee. They went to see what the situation was like and enjoyed the hospitality of a farmer near Achthuizen (a village where Annie later went to school). Then they went back to Brabant.

In December, the Allies asked for volunteers for a dangerous undertaking. Of course it was not said what they were to do but both young men were among those who signed up for it. They knew something about the island and were assigned to the task, which was roughly as follows:

With a row boat you go to Flakkee. You will have a large suitcase which contains a secret radio (receiver and transmitter). Make contact with the Dutch underground or persons who are trustworthy. They will pass on the messages we need. We especially want to know what is actually happening on Schouwen which is defended more strongly than we thought. How did the troops and ammunition arrive, how are they supplied, etc. etc?

They arrive on Flakkee in a rubber boat, the boat is pushed off shore — the suitcase is dragged ashore. The boat happens to return to the place of departure, so the Germans don't know about these new arrivals. They are now looking for the farmhouse, where they received hospitality in October. But it is empty. They hide the large suitcase. A cyclist arrives. Where does the farmer live now they ask. He has been evacuated and now lives with someone else is the answer.

With no idea of where that might be they start their search. They do find him but he cannot help them. Go to Den Bommel, contact ... (note, name not provided but it is Leo Jacobs), he is with the Dutch underground.

That is how they get to know their way around and the organization begins. The narrator recalls the events. They drag the suitcase to the farm near den Bommel. After three days they finally manage to get the transmitter working to connect with the Allies. The transmitter and receiver are small. You have to manually crank the dynamo to generate power for the transmitter. It is noisy, but it works. The transmitter is small and has limited range. That does not matter. A plane takes off from Tilburg when it is time to transmit. They call each other, and use code words: Hello Annie (yes, my wife) and when Annie is on she asks: Hello Pauline. They indicate the code to be used for the reporting that evening... After a few days, the two young men who brought the transmitter are picked up by boat and leave the island.

One man is the lookout. The farm is remote. In the evening the farmer removes packs of straw. No one can reach the barn, which lies on a small hill in the water, without wading through the water. (Note that the polder has been flooded by the Germans to limit chances the allies would land there when opening a second front against Germany). They cannot be surprised easily, because they will be warned by the noise made when someone wades through the water.

Once in a while when there is an unexpected malfunction a signal is sent to wait. The plane circles over the flooded area until transmission can be resumed.

One wonders how it all worked. From Christmas (1944) until the liberation (May 1945) messages were sent every evening, sometimes twice, if there was important news. During the time of this additional responsibility the farmer was supposed to evacuate the farm in February.

I acted as if I had permission to remain, the farmer who had the transmitter said. It was dangerous. I had a wife and five children. Once they were playing and said “hello Pauline, hello Annie”. We warned them that they could not play that game, it was very naughty. Then they no longer did so.

Couriers carried the messages to be sent to the allies, from the P.T.T. (post office, telegrams) and from those in the underground. How many German troops arrived in Flakkee, how many left. Observers were everywhere and London knew exactly the situation on Flakkee.

When the war was over, the plane that every evening when it was dark had come to receive the messages from the transmitter, flew and circled low over the transmitter. The pilot did not know exactly where it was. The men who had operated the transmitter came outside. The pilot flew very low, descended very low and as a friendly gesture he dropped three packs of cigarettes. The following day the lady who had recorded the messages in the airplane arrived by car to meet the transmitters. As listening posts of the Allied army, the men who operated this transmitter were enrolled in the Allied army. If we had been killed — our wives would have received a pension, but it's better this way...I agree with the narrator...