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July 01, 2006
day 7
June 30, 2006
day 6
June 29, 2006
day 5
June 28, 2006
day 4
June 27, 2006
day 3

Everyone has, or has had, a hero at one time or another. I never realized it until I approached retirement age that I had a hero a long time ago.

You see, I was born in Rotterdam, Holland, in 1935 and lived there during the German occupation during World War II. The winter of 1944 was unusually cold, but, worse that that, we were starving.

The German supply lines had been cut off by the Allies and food was hard to come by. Our main survival were sugar beets and tulip bulbs. There was no meat. Dogs and cats were kept indoors for fear of ending up in the butcher shop. Many people starved to death.

It was then, on a sunny day in early spring of 1945 that I saw my hero. He came out of the sky and waved at me. I saw his face and the wave. I will never forget it.

You see, due to the extremely urgent situation, the Germans allowed, through the Swedish Red Cross, mercy food missions to be flown during daylight hours.

I was on the roof as that silver bird flew over. He flew so low that, I swear, I could hit it with a stone. That pilot was my first hero and I wonder what ever became of him.

Did he survive the remainder of the war? Was he eventually to become a fallen hero? I guess I'll never know because he didn't leave his name.

Just in case he happens to read this, and he remembers that 10 year old boy on the roof waving at him, he has not been forgotten because he brought the food of life and I'm still here to talk about it.

Author :: Bert Lamberts

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