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This story was added on behalf of Marmix Van Schelren by Holly-Anne Rolfe of London CSV volunteers. The author is aware of the site's terms and conditions.

My name is Marmix Van Schelren and this is a quick story about my mother, Irma Vansen, when she lived in Amsterdam in her 40s before she was married.

One night my mother was making her way back to her house just before lights out. The Germans were very strict and didn't let people wander the streets after dark unless there was a ball on or something. The streets in Amsterdam were very narrow and there was a train track running down the centre of them. It was pitch black, as you can imagine, and suddenly my mother heard a great noise behind her on the railway, she ran for her life out of the way and it wasnt until she reached safety on the other side of the track that she realised she had almost been run over by a German tank!

My father served in Indonesia. They didnt meet until after the war, they were introduced by a friend who served in the Canadian Airforce.

My mother is now 82 and lives in London.

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