BUG-OUT BAGS and other things from my memory of the 2^nd World War.

German soldiers in Denmark in conflict with the Danes

My Dad left a memory in my mind about survival and preparations in War time.

I was three years old when the Germans invade Denmark on the 9 of April 1940.

I had of course no clue at that age what was happening, but in the next five years of the Danish occupation there are several things that must have stuck in my memory.

Here are some of the things I remember:

The black window blinds had to be pulled down every night.  No light was supposed to shine out.

My sister and I playing with pieces of broken grenades in our yard.

The constant and regular alarm of sirens when there would be bombing.

My Dad telling us to be QUIET when he had to listen to BBC radio.

Food being scarce. I remember my Mom talking about food stamps for sugar and butter.

There were a lot of food that we did not have access to such as bananas and chocolate.

Us three girls hated our daily porridge.  As a matter of fact, many times my sister Birgit would throw the porridge in to a newspaper and throw it in the garbage when my Mom did not watch.

One time I was in the hospital under the war – with ear problems -  and I remember looking out the windows and down on some German soldiers cooking “yellow pea soup” in a huge-huge pot in the “Outdoor- Cement yard”.  Since then I never wanted to eat yellow pea soup.

We were always cold in the winter and my parents could only heat up the kitchen with the woodstove and the living room with another woodstove.  The rest of the rooms were not heated and the doors were closed.

Many times, we would get frozen toes from being outside and our parents forced us to “pee on them” since it would take away the frost bites.

In the evening, I remember my Dad heating up bricks in our wood stove in the kitchen every night and put them first in newspaper and then in towels, to place them in our beds so we could be a little warm under the huge feather downs - so our feet would stay warm.

Often my Dad was not home.  I did not know then that my Dad worked for Danish army for 25 years as “Depot Forvalter” = somebody overseeing the clothing for the Danish soldiers.

One day a couple of Germans came to ask for him. I must then have been around 7-8 years old.  They asked me for Henry Madsen. Well, for me: “Dad was just Dad” – not Henry Madsen - and I knew of a Henry Madsen living on Munkebjergvej 63 – which was down the road from where we lived on Munkebjergvej 53 -  so I told them that Henry Madsen lived down the street.

They left and I went in and told my Mom what had happened.  Her response was. Oh my.  They are looking for your Dad. She had time enough to warn him not to come home that day.

Another event that is stuck in my mind was this: Our neighbor had two grown children.  Bjarne and Jytte. Apparently, Bjarne - who must have been around 17-19 at that time - was in the resistance movement, got killed under the war and of course the family was devastated.

Nevertheless, when the war was over in Denmark 5 May 1945, my parents discovered that Bjarne’s Father had been a Nazi supporter and the one who had given the name of his own son to the Germans. It was devastating and the family was torn apart by divorce.

One thing that really, really have stuck out in my mind and shaped my feelings about the personality of my Father; was:


BUG-OUT-BAGS

My Father’s nightly steady preparation of five BUG-OUT BAGS for five years.

We had a bench in hallway where there were 5 permanent army type pack-sacks sitting ready to “bug-out any time” if we needed to.

5 little pack sacks with clothes and food and flashlights etc. Emergency bags ready in case we had to leave on a short notice. Five pairs of polished shoes on the floor.

Nevertheless, there is one thing I never have understood in his preparation:  Why would anybody want to polish shoes that just had to walk out on unpaved streets?

As a matter of fact, the streets were made of we in Danish called “slagger” which was lumps of coal that us kids had to go out and collect every day in a pail to feed our stove, to keep us warm.

When I look back now, I must say; that I am impressed about what my Dad did to prepare us for emergencies in the war time.

One memory that is still very clear in my mind is May 5^th 2020 when all us Danes took to the streets and celebrated freedom.

It was announced 4^th of May 1945 in the evening and still today many Danes put a candle in their window to celebrated.

My memory is to stand on Amagerbrogade with a Danish flag in my hand and the English soldiers throwing gum and chocolate to us.

Vibeke Lindhardt

12 March 2017

Comments from my cousin Gudrun Rasmussen (Madsen)

Så fik jeg læst om dine minder fra besættelsen. Det  var fantastisk at  din far sådan forberedte familien på flugt. Det husker jeg ikke, at min far gjorde. Jeg husker da tyskerne tog Højdevangsskolen til lazaret. Den dag var jeg og en anden pige ordensdukse, så vi gik sent fra skolen, og da vi kom ud på vejen, så vi en tysk jeep og nogle soldater, der gik op ad trappen til inspektørens kontor. Så kom vi til at gå på Smyrnavejens skole ved Remisen, og det bedste jeg husker derfra var, at der  var et skur med et hul i væggen, hvor man kunne kaste resterne af sin madpakken ind. Det  var en stor lettelse for mig, for  jeg blev altid skældt ud, hvis jeg ikke havde spist op. Når jeg gik fra Højdevangens skole klarede jeg problemet med  at stikke madpakken ind i en hæk, inden jeg nåede hjem.