In the Netherlands, we have lived in freedom for almost 80 years since the end of World War II. It is essential to face the complex and often painful stories of our history, such as this particular story. It reveals the life of a young man who, driven by the circumstances of his time, made the profound choice to enlist in the NSB and the Landstorm. He sincerely believed that National Socialism offered a path to a better future and considered it his moral duty to contribute to these changes. After his arrest, he realised with regret that he had erred in his choice, but those regrets seemed worthless now that he had to face the consequences of his actions.
This topic touches the deepest emotions and can have a significant impact on the bereaved. It is both a source of grief and remembrance. At the same time, we must not forget the victims’ relatives; they also deserve our recognition. That is why it is vital that we continue to pass on these stories.
Richard Schoutissen, Stichting Oorlogsslachtoffers.
Henricus Franciscus Theodorus Bernardus Gijsbers (alias Hank), °5 April 1922 in Deurne, † 19 January 2019 in Deurne.
In the aftermath of World War II, relief, sadness and revenge reigned simultaneously. The streets filled with cheering crowds, but beneath this revelry lay a grim reality: what was to happen to those who had collaborated with the German occupiers?
Outside the centre of a small village on the Veluwe was an army compound, a remnant of a Truppenübungsplatz (military training ground) for German soldiers. This site was given a new function as an internment camp, called ‘De Harskamp’, where Dutch nationals accused of treason after liberation were interned. They were housed under the supervision of the new authorities, who were determined to bring order to the chaos of reconstruction.
One of the internees was Henricus Franciscus Theodorus Bernardus (Hank) Gijsbers, a former office clerk from a predominantly pro-German family from Deurne. He was the son of Deurne town clerk Petrus Leonardus (Piet) Gijsbers and Maria Henrica Antonia Allegonda Theodora (Miet) van Baars. Hank lived at Liesselscheweg A.127 (later Liesselseweg 2) in Deurne. During the war, Hank had betrayed his ideals, driven by fear and the promise of better days for him and his family. When the Germans lost their grip on the country, he was unprepared for the consequences of his choices. He had hoped for forgiveness, but instead faced isolation, grief and regret.
Hank joined the National Socialist Movement (NSB) as a sympathiser in July 1942, where he held the positions of block leader, liaison officer and group chief. In addition, he was a member of the Dutch Labour Front (NAF). On 3 May 1943, he joined the Landwacht Nederland, later Landstorm Nederland, a unit of Dutchmen that was part of the Waffen-SS, the armed forces of the National Socialist Schutzstaffel (SS). He attended a four-month infantry training course in Vught and The Hague. He was then put on non-active duty so that he could be called up as a reservist at a later date. This happened in the spring of 1944, when he was called up for an exercise period of several weeks. It was here that the German commander asked for volunteers for a raid to track down people in hiding at the Hotel-Café-Restaurant ‘Hof van Brabant’ on Hinthamerstraat in ‘s-Hertogenbosch. Hank was one of fifteen volunteers from his company who reported for this action. During this raid, about thirty people were arrested and taken to the police station in ‘s-Hertogenbosch. Due to the invasion by the Allies that had now taken place, he had to remain in service after this period. In early September 1944, Hank was deployed to the front north of Hasselt, Belgium, where he fought against Allied forces with the 14th company (Panzerjäger) of the SS-Grenadier-Regiment 1 ‘Landstorm Nederland’. However, the lightly armed and poorly trained Dutch SS could not stop the Allied advance and soon had to start the retreat. This withdrawal took place via the Peel, where the company took position with their Panzerabwehrkanone (armoured anti-aircraft gun), which was used against the later Allied liberators of Deurne. But this time, too, they would be unable to withstand the overwhelming supremacy of the Allies. The question of why Hank did not desert, now that he was so close to his hometown and in familiar territory, unfortunately remains unanswered. Was it because deserters could expect severe punishment, including death? Did Hank still believe in the cause he was fighting for? Was it military discipline and group dynamics, or did he not want to endanger his family by deserting?
Eventually, after some wanderings through Limburg and Germany, they ended up in Apeldoorn. Here they were kept in reserve so they could be deployed quickly if needed. On 1 October 1944, Hank was promoted to SS-Sturmmann der Reserve (storm trooper), a rank similar to corporal. From Apeldoorn they were deployed for a large-scale raid in the Northeast Polder, which lasted three days. Hank’s company, consisting of about eighty men, was charged with tracking down pioneers and people in hiding in Blokzijl. In total, some 1,800 workers were rounded up in the Northeast Polder who worked on the reclamation of the polder and in agriculture. These men had to walk to Meppel railway station and from there be sent by train to Groningen and then to Germany, where they had to work in the war industry. For his efforts at the front and participation in three different attacks on three different days, Hank received the ‘Infanterie-Sturmabzeichen in Silber’, the infantry assault insignia in silver, on 20 April 1945. Not much later, on 29 April 1945, Hank was transferred to the 4th company of the SS-Freiwilligen-Grenadier-Regiment 84. As the fighting intensified, the Dutch SS conducted a veritable reign of terror. After the war, the death penalty was even demanded against one of his old comrades for his actions. As rumours of an impending reckoning grew stronger and stronger (after all, they had fought on their own territory and sometimes against fellow countrymen), they hoped that, should the battle be lost, they would not fall into the hands of the Dutch resistance, but into those of the Allies. Hank was eventually taken prisoner of war after the capitulation in Maarsbergen, where he was then arrested in Maarn and stayed in internment camp ‘De Harskamp’ on the Veluwe until July 1946. He was then transferred to the Vught internment camp, which was a concentration camp (Konzentrationslager Herzogenbusch) during World War II. Here, after the capitulation, collaborators, people suspected of collaborating with the Germans and other sympathisers of the Nazi regime were interned. Other groups were also interned, such as people involved in war crimes or otherwise seen as a threat to the new order. By the way, Hank was not the only person from Deurnen who was interned here.
The daily routine in the camp was tough. Internment meant not only the loss of their freedom but also having to give up their Dutch citizenship. Personal belongings, including money and valuables, were confiscated and managed by the Dutch Administration Institute (NBI). Each month they received a meagre amount for their living expenses, a shadow of the life they once led. Yet in the camp, Hank also knew moments of camaraderie and understanding; conversations with fellow inmates who shared their own stories of regret and repentance. They nourished each other’s hopes for a better future, though it was far from certain. The road to recovery was long and full of challenges, but Hank was determined to become a valuable member of society again. He worked as a helper in the registration and administration department of the polyclinic in the internment camp and eventually became ward head.
Although Hank had undergone seven punitive exercises for possession of smoking paraphernalia and abuse of visitation, the barracks warden considered him an exemplary internee. He behaved excellently and was helpful to both the staff and his fellow inmates. In addition, he took good care of his clothes and eating utensils. The chaplains were also positive about his behaviour; they noted that this energetic young man stood wholeheartedly behind the movement while distancing himself from the methods of the SS. As an individual, however, he was unable to oppose it. Because of his young age, he did not have the experience to form well-founded judgements, and the propaganda he received had a strong influence on him. The episcopal warnings made no impression because, as a 17-year-old, he was already alienated from his faith. Then, with the same determination he showed earlier for the NSB, he embraced a more positive ideal. This makes him one of the few examples of genuine re-education, about which much has been spoken, but for which little action has been taken. Given these circumstances, and especially his youthful inexperience, these factors should be taken into account at his trial. While the medical aspects of the sentence are well done, vindictiveness is certainly lacking. Talking about vindictiveness… An examination of Hank’s mental capacity was conducted in September 1947. The executive doctor was by no means lenient in his extensive report, which we will not go into further here. Among other things, he concluded that Hank was undoubtedly impaired. The examining doctor’s comments, both to Hank and other internees, suggest that the outcome of the examination may reflect a strong need for retribution.
The prosecution demanded that Hank be sentenced to 10 years’ imprisonment for the offences committed. Fortunately for Hank, the verdict of the tribunal on 21 October 1947 was lower: he was sentenced to five years’ imprisonment, less remand. Because Hank entered German military service, he automatically lost his Dutch citizenship. In 1953, the Dutch state introduced a law allowing him to regain his Dutch nationality.
Seventy years later, over a cup of coffee and a biscuit, I am sitting at the dinner table with Hank and his wife Lamberta Maria Theresia (Bep) Köhnen. Their son sits in the living room and, I think, keeps an eye on them. They are now retired and were once the entrepreneurs of a successful clothing workshop called ‘Decona’ (Deurne’s Confection atelier). During our pleasant conversation, they gave their agreement for an interview, in which Hank talks about his war past and that of his family. His wife also talks about her father, Adrianus Theodorus Köhnen, who was killed by a grenade attack during World War II.
We discuss the family in which he grew up. Although little to no relevant information is available about his mother and sisters, who were all German-minded, I have decided to limit this story to his father and brothers:
-
Johannes Henricus Wilhelmus (Wilhelm) Gijsbers: During World War II, he owned a chicken farm in Molsheim (Alsace, France). He was not a member of the NSB or a collaborator, further investigations yielded no evidence and therefore there was no cause for prosecution. His details are listed here because his brother Theo spent some time in hiding with him.
-
Wilhelmus Theodorus Franciscus (Theo) Gijsbers: He left voluntarily for Bavaria in Germany in April 1942, where he was put to work as an instrument maker with Hoffmann in Erlangen. A year later, while on leave to Deurne, he did not return, worked for farmers in the surrounding area for some time, but was arrested during a raid by the Grüne Polizei in Deurne. As he was ill at the time, he was not taken immediately and managed to escape. He went into hiding with his brother in France, but even there he was discovered by the Grüne Polizei and sent back to the Hoffmann firm in Erlangen, where he continued to work until the city was surrendered to the advancing US troops without a fight. He then worked briefly in a transit camp until he returned to the Netherlands on 1 September 1945. Theo was a member of the NSB and was briefly interned in Camp Vught after World War II. As further investigation into raised suspicions yielded no evidence, the tribunal pronounced an unconditional disqualification as unfounded on 29 October 1946.
-
Lambertus Johannes Petrus Maria (Bèr) Gijsbers: He performed military service as a sentry in the 22nd Regiment Artillerie before mobilisation. On 1 April 1941, he joined the Dutch Labour Service (NAD) as a supervisor, but because he was dissatisfied, he joined the NSB in May 1941. In November 1941, Bèr left for Poland, where he worked for the Nederlandsche Oostcompagnie (NOC) as a tree farm leader. On 13 November 1942, he worked for the Landbewirtschaftungsgesellschaft Ostland m.b.H. based in Minsk (Belarus). In early May 1943, he married Polish Maria Helena (Marusha) Michniewicz in Dunilavichy (Belarus). They had one child and the family returned to Bèr’s parental home in Deurne in July 1944. However, Bèr was also transferred to the internment camp in Vught on 9 June 1945 after a short stay in Hoogerheide detention camp. On 5 August 1946, his conditional disqualification ended because he behaved like a good Dutchman and put himself under the supervision of the Stichting Toezicht Politieke Delinquenten, following its instructions.
-
Henricus Antonius Nicolaas Maria (Toon) Gijsbers: He had been a member of the NSB since July 1941 and was an arborist by profession. In 1941, he worked at the van den Bosch-Roxy company in France for a few weeks, but as he did not like this, he went to his sister in Erkelenz (Germany) to work at a tree nursery. This job, too, was short-lived as he did not like it. Toon had an adventurous spirit and, like his brother Bèr, decided to work as an Eastland farmer. After working for some time in Riga, Estonia, he went to work for the NOC in Belarus, with the aim of promoting the colonisation and Germanisation of this area. On 1 October 1942, while on an assignment as Pionier-Verwalter (pioneer administrator), he hit a landmine with a truck in Gleboki (Hlybokaye) in Belarus and was killed.
We also discuss his father, Petrus Leonardus (Pieter) Gijsbers, who was town clerk of the municipality of Deurne. During World War II, he was appointed controller of the cinema ‘Bio-Vink’ in Deurne by the National Socialist Department of Public Information and Arts (DVK). In May 1943, he was asked by Adrianus Antonius Maria Stoetzer, the NSB district leader of district 15 (North Brabant) with office at Koestraat 166 in Tilburg, to take up the office of mayor of the municipality of Deurne and join the NSB. However, Pieter refused this position in a written response, which he concluded with the greeting ‘Hou Zee’. This greeting seriously discredited him after the war, as it was a common greeting formula within the NSB. On the day of Deurne’s liberation, 24 September 1944, he had to resign his post as town clerk and went on sick leave with immediate effect. Eventually, simultaneously with the withdrawal of the German military, his entire family left for one of their daughters in Germany. He chose not to separate from his family, although it was politically disadvantageous for him. As a result, he lost the trust of the population, at least not enough to hold his position as town clerk, despite there being no known facts to indicate that he had acted to the detriment of the people of Deurn during the occupation.
When it comes to Hank and his voluntary entry into German military service, he is reserved during the interview. The distant war past has now developed a life of its own, full of fantasies, realities and unrealities. He tries to excuse his role during World War II. Meanwhile, he picks up a book from the shelf titled ‘Grey Past’. In this book, the author argues that World War II in the Netherlands cannot simply be summarised in terms of right and wrong. Hank tells me that he never wore a uniform or weapon and did not take part in combat operations. But when I show him a photo from the German archives showing him posing in uniform, I remind him of the fighting in Belgium and the raids he took part in. I also point him to the notes in his Soldbuch (Wehrmacht pay book), which note the serial number of his Mauser Karabiner 98k (a German infantry carbine) and his Seitengewehr 84/98 (German bayonet). At that moment, a silence falls. Suddenly, Hank starts talking about the crematorium at the former concentration camp in Vught. ‘They built this only after World War II,’ he says. However, I knew that the crematorium, where the bodies of prisoners who had been shot or died of illness or debilitation in the camp were cremated, was built in 1943 and inaugurated in December that year. Hank’s comment about the crematorium continues to haunt me. Although the former concentration camp was not an extermination camp, it still seems like he is trying to hide a grey past. This prompts me to conclude the interview.
We have another cup of coffee. Before I leave, Bep shows me some pictures. Meanwhile, I explain to Hank what I am going to do with the information obtained. I tell him that this information will be kept in our archives and possibly published in the future. ‘Wait long enough then,’ he mutters with a sarcastic laugh. His words make me realise that I understand what he means. Hank died five years ago now, and I feel it is an appropriate time to share this story now. Especially now that the disclosure restrictions on these files in the Central Archive of Special Justice (CABR) have been lifted 75 years after their creation. Consider the above not only a historical story about a Deurn family during and after World War II, but also a warning and a call for reflection on the moral choices people make in times of crisis. It reminds us that the history of World War II is not black and white, but rather rich in nuances and complex human experiences.