Klaas and his father have been searching for years for his grandfather, a Polish soldier who got stuck in 1945. Investigation provides additional motivation for the realization of the Dalerpeel war memorial

Invariably, Klaas Veldhuis (55) and his eponymous father (76) went to the war memorial in Nieuwlande. Both were gripped by the Second World War. Especially personally, because senior is a so-called liberation child. His father was a Polish soldier for whom his mother Geertje Veldhuis fell in the aftermath of the Second World War, at a dance evening in Ter Apel. She became pregnant by him.

Father and mother suddenly become grandparents

That was a disgrace within the family, so it was not discussed. Geertje left the parental home soon after giving birth. It wasn’t until he was fourteen, when senior had to collect a work permit at the town hall, that he saw that the people who had been his father and mother all along suddenly became grandparents. And his older sister suddenly becomes his mother. Veldhuis’ world collapsed, but life just went on. And the silence too.

Until around 2000, when the past started to play up more and more in seniors. Who was his father? And most importantly, where is he? Is he still alive? Junior, just as interested and also better with the computer, started to help with the search. Later, another important reason came to him: his heart turned out to be severely affected by sarcoidosis. A potentially hereditary disease, so it was very important for him to know whether the condition also occurs in the family on the Polish side. “But yes, I could always go back to my father. On my mother’s side, it was all sorted out. Nothing was found there. As a precaution, my son and daughter have themselves checked every three years.”

Memorial in New Zealand

The start of the search also led to an annual visit to the commemoration in Nieuwlande. Senior, now Bellingwolde, still lived in Elim, his son in Dalerpeel. ,,I became more and more concerned with the Second World War”, junior says. “I became more and more convinced of the importance of commemorating. You normally do this at the war memorial in your village. After all, every self-respecting place has one. But not Dalerpeel. Partly thanks to the legacy of Berend Kikkert, who died in 2019 at the age of 95 and experienced the war himself, that monument can now be built. It will be unveiled on 4 May.” Johan Kroesen and Hans Wering have also worked for almost two years to make the monument possible (see also insert).

Shame

Everything indicated in 2012 that the quest of son and father would finally be rewarded. Veldhuis had only received the name Alois Swinka from his biological mother at the time. “She always put up a wall when I asked about my father. She didn’t really want to talk about it, also because it was such a shame at the time.”

In a 2012 documentary about liberation children, Veldhuis again asks his mother about his father. Yes, they sometimes associated with Polish soldiers during dance evenings in Ter Apel. Yes, she liked that Alois. “I had a bad time when it became known that I was pregnant,” she says in the documentary. ,,I never heard from Alois again.” Klaas was born December 20, 1946. “I had to leave the tent. Whether I wanted to or not. Because I was the disgrace of the family. Pack your things, the old man said. And go.”

Geertje says she did try to take her son with her, but nothing came of it. ,,They went as white as this cup.” Out the door and never coming back, was the message. Veldhuis asks what she would think if he tracked him down. “I wouldn’t mind that. He could be dead.” Would she like to meet him if the search succeeded? “I’ve never really thought about it,” she replies.

DNA test

With only Alois Swinka as a clue, the two finally stumbled upon a Polish soldier of the same name in 2012. ,,Unfortunately he passed away in 1997, but his son and daughter were willing to do a DNA test so that we would get 100 percent clarity.” There was no match, not even remotely. Veldhuis did have friends for life, because they still see each other regularly. “I will visit them again this year. The first thing I do is go to their father’s grave.”

With the death of Geertje in 2014, almost all hope of ever getting results has vanished. She had the answers to my questions. Only she could have helped us further”, says senior.

Because the commemorations of ten, twenty years ago, where Polish liberators also came, are no longer there. Simply because the soldiers from then are no longer there. Senior often stood there handing out flyers with his father’s name, hoping someone would remember him.

Adopted children

“The only hope I have left is that archives become more accessible,” says junior. “The Red Cross, municipalities, war archives; in all those years of searching, we always came up against the strict rules regarding the protection of personal data. To investigate Alois Swinka, we needed his permission. The world turned upside down, because we were looking for him. Adopted children are allowed to look for their biological parent, but liberation children are left behind.”