Gold fever in Ommeren: ‘It’s been a madhouse here for days’

It is at least a two-hour drive from Sneek, so Richard Bruinsma was already standing next to his bed at five o’clock this morning. Now he drinks a cup of thermos coffee along a country road near the Gelderland town of Ommeren. His metal detector rests on a shovel in the verge.

When Bruinsma heard about the treasure that would lie here in Ommeren this week, he immediately took to it. For several days he sat at his computer until two in the morning. Google Earth, Google Maps, studying old topographical maps, looking for the right place. “When you hear about such a treasure, you go crazy,” says Bruinsma, a handyman in daily life. “It’s a lot of money anyway.”

But when he arrived this morning at the spot where he thought the treasure should be, Bruinsma was in for a disappointment. “There were already all kinds of holes, sometimes up to half a meter deep.” He dug for a while (“I don’t give up easily”), but eventually moved to this stubble field, a kilometer away, “to do some more digging.” He fishes the morning’s loot out of his trouser pocket: a silver button, some coins and a bullet.

Men with metal detectors

Ommeren, a hamlet in the Betuwe, has been overrun by treasure hunters like Bruinsma for a few days now. The reason is the publication of a mysterious treasure map last Tuesday by the National Archives. The map was drawn two years after the war by the German former Wehrmacht soldier Helmuth Sonder. In April 1945, on the run from the advancing Allies, he claimed to have buried a precious collection of silver and gold on the Den Eng estate in Ommeren. The valuables are said to have come from a bombed-out bank building near Arnhem.

After various media including NRC, wrote about the ‘Nazi treasure’, the men – especially men – arrived in Ommeren with metal detectors. Traces of their research in recent days can be found everywhere in the roadsides and orchards on the estate: large pits, not all of them filled up.

“It has been a madhouse here for days,” says regional historian Joke Honders. “The treasure hunters come from far and wide, one even from England.” On her phone she shows a picture of a man standing waist-deep in a self-dug hole, metal detector in hand.

Honders has also become very excited about the treasure map, she says in the parking lot of the regional museum next to the estate. Together with Conny van der Heyden, a fellow amateur historian who knows everything about the Second World War, she immediately went to the attic of the regional museum in search of old maps and books. “And I requested old aerial photographs of the Royal Air Force from the University of Wageningen,” says Van der Heyden.

Actually, Honders and Van der Heyden wanted to go looking for the treasure today. They had already enlisted the help of Cees-Jan van de Pol, an experienced detector man who found a Roman coin hoard in an apple orchard a few years ago. Only: searching is not allowed. In the municipality of Buren, which includes Ommeren, a detector ban has been in effect since last autumn. In any case, the Heritage Act prohibits digging into the soil, unless you have an exemption. “We have applied for it,” says Honders, “but that is not a matter of a few days.”

‘Done with the bullshit’

Last Friday, the municipality of Buren called on treasure hunters not to come to Ommeren. Nine diggers have now received an official warning from a boa, says alderman Pieter Neven (Space and Traffic, PCG), who also came to take a look at the Den Eng estate. “The local population is bothered by all those people who come to dig on their property uninvited.”

Moreover, says the alderman, digging in the soil can be dangerous in the Betuwe. “The Germans laid booby traps here when they retreated, which may still be in the ground. Last year, ammunition was found that had to be rendered harmless.”

The Germans placed booby traps here when they retreated, which may still be in the ground

Neven had not seen the gold rush in Ommeren coming, he says: the National Archives had not informed the municipality about the imminent disclosure. He has since been in contact with the archive. “They have apologized and said it is a learning opportunity for them.”

On the other side of the provincial road you can see how far some treasure hunters go. Three huge pits have been dug in a yard next to a cherry orchard. The perpetrators, who presumably struck in the night, have not been traced. They left their shovels against a shed.

Around the pits, the three Van Dee sisters, whose mother lives in the yard, are talking to two police officers. They are quite agitated by the events. “Get out!” the reporter is told as he walks into the yard. “This is our territory.”

After the police leave, Janny van Dee, one of the sisters, peers into the deepest pit. “In a moment,” she says, “we’ll kick that shit shut and we’ll be done with that nonsense.”

A strong suspicion

One of the nine prospectors who received a warning is dowser Lammert Hingstman from Drenthe. Yet he came to Ommeren again this Saturday to search. The divining rod turns out not to be a Y-shaped branch, but to consist of two wires, bent at an angle of ninety degrees. “Copper wire. Iron wire is just as good. I have a few rolls in my car. Should I make one for you?”

So far, the treasure hunters have searched in vain: the gold rings, watches and coins of Private Sonder have not yet been found. The problem, says regional historian Joke Honders, is that the treasure map is quite dated and “rather vague”. She pulls out a copy from her purse. “Look, according to the map the treasure is located at three tall poplars. But they have since been harvested.”

Nevertheless, Honders and Van der Heyden have a strong suspicion where the treasure might lie. When peace has returned to Ommeren and their exemption has been granted, they want to start digging. “But of course we don’t say where.”

Alderman Neven has indeed received a request for exemption, he says. Five pieces even. “But we will probably reject them.”