Dutch Courage

Martin Parsons

Description

Life is a complex maze, a jigsaw of complications.Jakob Jansen was just an ordinary shop keeper, who lived with his wife and had a very attractive assistant. But when his country surrendered to the Germans, his life took a drastic turn.Amsterdam is now firmly under the Nazi jackboot, which leads to Jakob being host to a most unusual collection of lodgers, including: a member of the Dutch Resistance, a British spy, and a rather seductive female German spy.Jakob is forced to operate in secret under the watchful eye of the evil German General, Klaus Schneider, who is famous for his cruel and vindictive nature (but also his weakness for the ladies).With unlikely friendships and unlikely enemies, not everyone is who they appear to be...

Sujets

• Países Bajos
• Ámsterdam
• Netherlands
• Amsterdam

Informations

• Publié par: Troubador Publishing Ltd
• Date de parution: 27 septembre 2022
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781803133737
• Langue: English

Extrait

Copyright © 2022 Martin Parsons

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the
publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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Contents
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-TWO
TWENTY-THREE
TWENTY-FOUR
TWENTY-FIVE


ONE
Jakob’s War
Amsterdam, Holland. May 15, 1940
Jakob Jansen’s Food Shop on the Prinsengracht Canal. Jakob, a forty-seven-year-old shopkeeper, average height, slim build, wearing a white shirt and black tie. His wife, Rini, forty-six years old, average height, plump build with short, dark hair. And assistant shopkeeper Angelina, a stunning twenty-six-year-old brunette, tall and slim, wearing a red blouse and a tight black skirt. They were all standing around the counter listening intently to the wireless.
‘And so we pray, now that our royal family are no longer with us, and our country officially surrenders to the might of the German blitzkrieg. We put up a good fight but to no avail. The Germans have now taken every major airfield. Rotterdam and the Hague lie in ruins. It’s been five days now since the initial attack…’ Jakob switched off the wireless. Rini looked from Jakob to Angelina, noticing their concerned expressions. ‘I’ll go and put the kettle on’ she said, and she made her way to the kitchen, exiting through the back of the shop. Angelina turned to Jakob, who leaned back and peered through the doorway to the back, making sure his wife was out of sight, then turned back to Angelina. She leaned into his shoulder while he put his arms around her.
‘Does this mean this has to be the end of us?’ she asked him, her voice muffled in his shoulder.
‘Not at all,’ he reassured her. ‘Just because the Germans have overrun us, doesn’t mean my mind is taken off you.’
‘But won’t it complicate things?’ she asked, still in each other’s arms.
‘Well, you know what they say, one problem can overshadow another.’ He gave her a reassuring smile as they broke apart to gaze into each other’s eyes. They began to move in for kiss when they heard men’s voices coming from the kitchen. Jakob and Angelina paused and frowned at each other before making their way out to the kitchen themselves.
Standing by the back door in the kitchen were two very determined-looking men. The taller man carried a suitcase and a typewriter, his blonde hair swept back in a side parting. The other man, also carrying a suitcase, was very young yet intelligent-looking, with dark wavy hair.
‘Otto, what are you two doing coming through the back, and what’s with the suitcases?’ asked Jakob looking confused.
‘Jakob, it’s time we put our plan into action,’ replied Otto, brandishing his typewriter.
‘What, you mean down in the cellar?’ asked Jakob.
‘Precisely.’ Otto smiled as he made his way past Jakob and Angelina. ‘We need to operate from the last place the Germans will think of looking; oh, and this is Anton by the way, don’t worry, he’s one of us,’ Otto explained, as everyone followed him out to the short hallway between the kitchen and the shop, while Anton managed a brief handshake with Jakob. Otto put his suitcase down and then just looked at Jakob as if waiting for him to do something. Jakob, realising this, bent down to roll the long red carpet back, revealing the door to the cellar.
Opening the cellar door with a slight creak, Otto was the first to climb down the steps, followed by Anton and then Jakob.
‘Angelina, roll the carpet back over when I’ve closed the door, I won’t be long,’ Jakob told her; she nodded and complied.
The cellar was huge, with a small electric lamp emitting a dull light on a wooden table, and food stacked up everywhere, but all was tidy.
Anton and Otto unpacked their equipment. They each used two ordinary wooden tables as their own desks.
‘As you know, Jakob,’ Otto explained, ‘as I am second in command in the Dutch resistance, second only to Walraven Van Hall, and Anton here is a forger and a spy, we would like to thank you personally for letting us use your cellar at this critical time.’
‘Oh, anything I can do to help really—’
‘Let me shake you by the hand, Mr Jansen,’ Anton cut in.
‘Please, call me Jakob.’
‘So, you two have known each other for some time then?’ asked Anton as he consulted the contents of his suitcase.
‘Yeah, we went to school together,’ Otto explained. ‘When we left school, Jakob here took over this shop from his father, while I went straight into studying radar and telecommunications, perfect for a future Dutch resistance fighter, even if we are supposed to be neutral, but you can bet your lives that won’t last,’ he said gravely.
‘Well in that case, let’s hope we can put all our talent to good use then,’ smiled Anton.
‘So, you’re a spy and a forger?’ Jakob asked Anton, genuinely intrigued and somewhat excited about the prospect.
‘Yeah, that’s right, well, it’ll only be a matter of time before the Germans will want us all to have ration books and identification cards, I can create as many as you like and in very little time. Plus, it comes in very handy being a spy, I can masquerade as almost anybody with the correct identification.’
Jakob didn’t quite know what to feel, but he was experiencing both excitement and dread for whatever the future may have in store for the Netherlands.
‘Right, well, I’ll leave you two to it then,’ Jakob replied as he began to ascend the steps. ‘If you need me just knock on the door,’ he added.
He then knocked on the door himself and waited for it to be opened from above. Once Jakob was out of the cellar, his wife Rini laid the red carpet back over the cellar door.
‘I hope you know what you’re doing,’ she said to Jakob rather unexpectedly sternly, while handing him his cup of tea and walking off.
Jakob remained by the cellar door and replied quietly to himself, ‘So do I.’
At that precise moment, Jakob heard the jingle of his shop door opening. He walked out to the shop behind the counter and saw that two German officers had entered. As they were contemplating the bottled water on a top shelf, Jakob could see that one of them was a General; he looked a giant of a man, at least six foot four inches with a stocky build, close-cropped blonde hair and glasses. The other was a captain, average height and build with dark hair.
Jakob watched as the General specifically reached for the bottle of water on the top shelf on the extreme right. All too soon for Jakob’s liking, they walked up to the counter and the General placed the bottle of water on the counter.
‘Good morning, proprietor,’ he spoke in his strong German accent. ‘I am General Klaus Schneider, and this is Captain Fritz Muller, and I wish to purchase this bottle of water.’
Jakob thought the General had a cocky way about him, not to mention an evil stare through his thick glasses, which unnerved Jakob.
‘Right,’ Jakob replied, trying to concentrate, ‘that’ll be six Duit please.’
‘Come now,’ replied the General, ‘is that any way to treat a conquering hero?’ And picking up his bottle, he placed half the amount asked for on the counter, before turning around and laughing with the Captain as they left.
Otto came in from the back, where the cellar was, and stood beside Jakob; both of them just stared at the door that the two German officers just left through.
‘That was General Klaus Schneider,’ Otto explained. ‘A ruthless, merciless man, he got transferred here from the Polish campaign. He has a deep hatred for Jews and will slaughter them as soon as look at them.’
‘But I thought all Germans hated the Jews?’ Jakob queried.
‘Not like this man,’ Otto explained. ‘Six months ago in Poland, a Jewish boy of eleven collapsed through exhaustion. Schneider beat him with his belt to stand back up and continue working, but the poor boy was too weak to stand. The General continued to beat his lifeless body, and because he didn’t stand, Schneider ordered the shooting of fifty slave labourers right before Christmas. The only man more powerful here in Holland is Syess-Inquart, the Reich Commissioner, who absolutely adores General Klaus Schneider.’
Jakob was listening to Otto intently when all of a sudden, BANG! BANG! BANG! A volley of shots rang out in the street followed by screams. Otto and Jakob rushed to the door and peered through the blinds. They saw the back end of a military truck opened up, with General Schneider standing by. There were two men lying dead on the ground; two German Privates picked t