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CHAPTER ONE
A Black Christmas
22 December 1944

Rob is sitting on the window-seat in the alcove at the front of the house, wearing his father’s thick leather jacket against
the bitter cold. The garment is far too big for him and he is engulfed in its folds, but the familiar smell comforts him. His loyal
German Shepherd, Dolfie, is lying on the cold ground next to him. Rob strokes his matted coat and feels his protruding ribs.
The poor thing hasn’t eaten much lately. It’s dark indoors and outside all is quiet. Everything is covered in a thick blanket of
snow that seems to mute all sound and the streetlamps are off. It’s a clear night, however, and a full moon lights the streets. Rob
peers out into the darkness to make sure all is safe. The air-raid sirens are silent, and peace seems to reign at last, but ten min
utes earlier, the night skies had been pierced by American antiaircraft fire. Rob’s sisters, Alie and Ria, are fast asleep in the cel
lar, where they are safe from the Germans’ continual V1 rocket attacks. The two girls are snuggled up together against the cold
in the makeshift cot Rob set up for them. It’s well past midnight and he should have been asleep long ago,
but he’s too agitated to doze off. He rarely sleeps long because too many restless
thoughts constantly prey on his mind. What he wouldn’t give for a decent night’s sleep, but his troubled mind just won’t shut
down.
Rob turned 16 a few weeks earlier and Christmas is on the doorstep, but there’s little cause for celebration. His parents were
arrested in October, just a few short weeks after the liberation of Maastricht. Accused of collaborating with the Germans, they
were carted off and locked up in a makeshift prison in town. Horrible rumours circulate about that grim place. The prison
ers are said to be badly fed and some even say that the guards abuse them. Rob doesn’t know what’s true or not, but he’s seen
more than his fair share of cruelty and brutality since the liberation, so he can’t rule anything out. Since his parents’ arrest,
he has had to look after his two younger sisters, as well as arrange food and clean clothes for his parents. It takes up most of
his time, which is a relief in some ways because it distracts him from his predicament. Fortunately, his father, the Sea Wolf, still
has plenty of money salted away and useful business contacts. The black marketeers are more than willing to take his money,
even if he is accused of collaboration. Business is business after all. Nobody dares take too much advantage of Rob because the
Sea Wolf is a powerful figure in town. Nobody knows if he will be released, but if he is, they don’t want him having an axe to
grind with them. It makes more sense to trade with the savvy youngster and wait and see how things turn out. The rest of the
community shuns Rob and his sisters because of the accusations against their parents. Their neighbours and former friends
curse and sneer at them, treating them like pariahs. At first, Rob was deeply hurt and outraged by their behaviour, but you get
used to anything after a while. Nowadays, he just shrugs, makes a mental note of their names and counts his bullets.
Maastricht and most of the southern Netherlands were liberated in September, but the liberation stalled, and the rest of the country is still occupied. The Americans are busy pushing the Germans back and they have no time or resources to maintain central authority in the liberated parts of the country. The town is in a state of virtual lawlessness where only the strongest survive. Things are mainly run by the local resistance groups, the KP and OD. They may call themselves resistance fighters, but
there was no resistance when the Germans blew up the town’s bridge during their retreat. But now they swagger around the
streets, pushing people around and acting like they own the place. The thought of those posers infuriates Rob and makes
him want to spit in disgust. Bunch of bloody cowards!
A large cardboard sign is stuck on the inside of the front window. It reads:

GERMAN FRIENDLY
OFF LIMITS
for all Allied personnel!

The Americans have branded them suspected collaborators, and allied soldiers are banned from having anything to do with
them. At first, the sign had hung on the outside of the window, but earlier that evening there had been a knock at the door. Rob
was startled by the intrusion and urgently sent his sisters to the cellar. Then, armed with a loaded Mauser, he crept to the door
and opened the tiny priest hole.
‘Who’s there?’ he demanded fiercely, his heart beating wildly. ‘It’s us, Rob,’ a voice came in the drawling local dialect, ‘Bert
and Rogier of the OD. C’mon and open up, we won’t ‘urtya.’ Rob was nobody’s fool; they wanted to search the house
for money and anything else of value they could lay their dirty mitts on.
‘Whaddaya want?’ he responded in the same dialect. It was quiet for a moment and then came the reluctant answer:
‘That sign ont door, maybe yuz should take it down.'
‘What for?’ Rob asked suspiciously. ‘Mebbe the Jerries’ll come back. Ya never know … and mebbe they won’t understan’ why ut wuz put up. Mebbe they’ll get pissed off and go looking to find out who did it. D’ya want us tuh take it down for yuz?’
Not bloody likely, Rob knew full well what was going on. Cowardly scum!
He felt his cheeks flush with rage.
‘Keep yer paws off it and get outta here!’ he snarled. ‘Otherwise, I’ll put me dog onto yuz!’
No response came from behind the door.
‘Get lost!’ Rob barked again.
The two OD members trudged away in the deep snow, yelling, ‘Bleedin’ Jerry lover!’ We’ll see about that, he thought grimly.
When they were gone, he snuck outside into the freezing cold and pulled the sign off the front window. He took it inside
and defiantly stuck it to the inside of the pane so that nobody could tamper with it.
Now, let the Germans come back and we’ll see how tough they are!

On 16 December, the Germans had suddenly unleashed a counter offensive in the Belgian Ardennes, not 100 kilometres
south of Maastricht. Everyone was completely overwhelmed, especially the American troops in the dense forests. They quickly recovered from the unexpected attack, but fierce fighting was still going on a week later and the outcome was uncertain. Nobody had even suspected that the Germans were capable of an offensive, never mind that it would be so successful. Rumours
spread like wildfire. They were said to be advancing on the Belgian port of Antwerp, and some people were scared the Germans might even be back in Maastricht by Christmas. The sooner, the better, Rob thinks dourly. Then I’ll have a Christmas present for some folks!

Rob keeps his vigil at the front window. To pass the time, he carefully polishes his Mauser and Browning pistols, which his
father had kept hidden throughout the war. It’s so cold that he can barely hold the guns. He also shines his bullets and attaches
a name to each one. A lot of people are in for a big surprise if the Germans do come back. He is going to shoot the lot of them,
the bunch of backstabbers! After the liberation, Rob’s parents had been lured into a trap by the local resistance, and he and his
sisters were left behind to fend for themselves, surrounded by a sea of hostility. Rob’s two best friends, Avi and Karl, were long
gone and he felt so lonely. Even the parish priest, whom he had served as an altar boy, had turned his back on him.
Just you wait, Rob thinks, just you wait!
He starts to tick off the names of the people he has a score to settle with: Schreuder, the gendarme who betrayed his parents,
and Bert and Rogier. That’s just for starters. And the priest? Where was the man of God when he needed him? And God himself?
If it had only been up to Rob, he would have gone out into the streets and started shooting the cowards right then and
there. He didn’t give a damn anymore, but that wouldn’t help his parents or his sisters. Somebody had to stay calm and protect
the house from looters and arrange food for everyone. But there will be a reckoning for sure if the Germans come back. Count on it!
Rob knows exactly how many bullets he’s got, forty-eight. He hopes that’ll be enough. ×