»Firepots from heaven«
No end of horror in sight

Yet the war raged in Belgium and the worries about surviving took no end.
Fritz Mannheimer, afflicted by the responsibility for Rudi, wrote on the 22nd of June 1943,
after Laja had been in Mecheln for over five weeks, desperately to Westvieteren.
"...so yesterday I was at Rudi's aunt's, "Secours Nr. 7", and heard to my great
pleasure, that the timbres were sent to Rudi from there on and that one would do this now henceforth.
It does not make any complicacies for the woman and one even wants to visit Rudi at the next opportunity.
Everyone likes the little boy and it is a big misfortune for such a child, to be in that situation,
thank God he does not know anything about it. Of course I will too stand up for that after the war the expenses
will be paid (for Rudi) from any department there. Hopefully the Almighty will stand by me and not let me get killed till there..."

And later, on the 28th of June 1943 he wrote :

"...Unfortunately, in the meantime the donator of the clothes, Mrs. Debeeker,
as well as her 12 year old son went the same way as Laja."

After he spoke for the incorporation of the child in a Flemish family, the Jewish merchant from Karlsruhe, who was so battered himself, believed to have to affirm again and again that he would definitly retrieve everything.
"...so, as it was said, if there should be any expenses for little Rudi needed, then I will of course take care of that all the expenses will be completely acquitted later on. As well as it will be my holiest duty to retrieve all that what was given to me from there as allocations, on condition that I survive this war (...) and if not, then there is my dear wife who is as dutiful as me. (...) As good as it goes, I will also henceforth, when there is an opportunity, try to get something useful for Rudi e.g. from families which have elder children and are able to give something. But unfortunately one does not always find understanding for such a thing."
For now, Mannheimer did not have to worry about the "little boy", though times were still bad.
At the Verplaetse family he could, in spite of the years of Hunger, eat his fill.
"Thanks to our big market garden and the regular breeding of a piglet in the shed" said the youngest son, Lucien, later.
"He was a headstrong quillet, learned remarkedly well, was always ahead of the other children,
but he also had many friends, because he was so open and friendly. Father and mother were his daddy and mommy and we all were his sisters and brothers."
Father Idesbald, who in the paltry years of war regularly looked out for goods for the monastery and went through the land with the freshly brewed Trappist beer, also looked from time to time if everything was alright.
But the times of suffering were far from over. On the 12th of July, 1943, about noon, a pandemonium suddenly roared over Waregem. The unsuspecting inhabitants of the town were surprised by a blistering air raid. Direct hit. The bomb, intended to be dropped on a near factory, missed it's target and destroyed the heart of the small township. Seven people died, over twenty were injured. The village mourned.
No, the turning point was far from being in sight. In Brussels, the misery was greater
than ever now. The nazi-ghosts still lurked behind every corner. In the end of Septembre
1943, the anxious Mannheimer requested the monks in Westvierten again for a job
and for help for a now also orphaned young Jewess.

"(...) she is 22 years old, wants to get a job in the countryside. She speaks Flemish very well.
So a helpless thing, due to the fact that both parents and all the other siblings are with Laja (...)
From 1.10, the girl has no place of refuge and winter is coming. Sophie lived at her parents',
and while she was a couple of hours out to run errands, her parents disappeared with bag and baggage and the door was blocked. "

For how many people more did the good man from Karlsruhe want to take responsibility ?
He himself was put into great worry from news from Germany and from the Flemish home,
because he knew his family there.

On the 28th of October Fritz Mannheimer wrote to Westvleteren:

“… this week I still have some white beans of yours, out of which I made a big pot of soup, blended with potatoes, I can assure you it was a delicacy. For this I bought myself 50g of cattle fat for 17.50 fr. and melted it with onions, I made a resolution if I’m allowed to come back to Else, by God, this meal will be on my table every week, that's how good it was […]
Is there any opportunity to get smoked fish in your area, I would like to make an exchange for laundry I’d have some panties that I could spare and with that both would be supplied.



Because you live near the coast there that's how I imagine it to be, that there would be an opportunity for that.
A smoked herring with jacket potatoes would be a big help to me and they’re not very expensive.”


And on November 5th, 1943 he again pointed out the fate of the Jewish woman left behind.

“(…) this morning I saw Sophie, she had, she told me, a bad cold for a couple of days, and this without staying home. Sophie looked horrible and of course starving. I gave her 10 Franken, so that she could buy herself something to eat. I promised, that when I get the packet from you on Sunday, I will give her some of it. Oh, what can and should one do in these kind of situations? You can’t just let these young people starve to death. She told me she’s allowed to sleep in the work place of her shoemaker, isn’t that sad? One can’t find work here, and we’re not allowed to accept any without the proper permission. Because we are not accepted (refugees), oh, these are all things, that are very bitter, and to survive all of this, takes strong nerves and food, [to trade] and to get these is another thing…”

Mannheimer hoped to be allowed to travel to Westvleteren at the turn of the year 1943/1944, to celebrate Christmas there with the monks in the monastery:

“(…) I was really hoping to be allowed to spending Christmas Mass with you in the monastery, now I have to spend Christmas Eve alone here in the city.

It is for the first time during war permitted to have Christmas Mass at midnight, which satisfies me a great deal. Else has her 38th birthday on the 31st of December, 1943”

The giant war machinery rolled on. Unstoppable. Meanwhile the proportion of destruction could not be clearly seen. Everywhere there was rubble and destruction and suffering and help needed. The national socialists were getting closer to their bitter end goal. Darkening of buildings were now a part of the every day life, and more and more often people had to spend nights in bunkers and house basements. A lot of cities, and some Jews that lived in a meager room in Brussels, only had needed gas to cook and warm at certain times in the day. A risky venture. Whoever forgot to turn of their gas during the general “stop” could be surprised at night by the insidious poison to be found dead the next morning.
On the 25th of April 1944 Mannheimer wrote: “(…) Miss Sophie who had once been at Rudi’s, is now there where Rudi’s mother has been for a long time now.” The horror didn't seem to end.
On the morning of the 6th of June 1944 18000 allied parachuters landed in the Normandy. Hitler first thought of a deception, through which the allies would get more time. In July the strategically important city Caen was taken into power. The break out from the Normandy was a success. At the same time in the east Russian connections reached the border of Poland, and in Italy the Germans had already fled to Florence. Did the Belgians have to suffer much longer?

Not yet. Because while the German troops were already on their way back from North France, Hitler ordered on the 21st of July, 1944 a civil administration for the small country, instead of a military administration. The time of “tolerance” was said to be over. The military governor Alexander von Falkenhausen was arrested in Brussels after the failed assassination attempt of Stauffenberg on Hitler on July 29th, 1944 and cited to Berlin for discussions with the Gestapo. He was accused of being too gentle with the Belgians and with those who where part of the assassination. As a captive of the SS in the German capital, the general came across like-minded dissidents like Graf Moltke, Planck, the generals Speidel and von Stülpnagel. For the aristocrat, who despised Hitler and his henchmen, began a bitter odyssey from prison to prison, from camp to camp. Until end of April 1945 he stood with other celebrity prisoners under close watch by the SS.
In 1944 the small Jew Rudi Menen attended her first communion in Waregem-Nieuwenhove. Forty years later Marie-José Verplaetse wrote to the archiver, Brother Alfons, of the monastery St. Sixtus: “He grew up under the alter-brought norms of our family: devout, very helping, and humble. …


Little Jewish Rudi Menen received his first Holy Communion in Waregem-Nieuwenhove in 1944. Marie-José Verplatese wrote to the archivist of St. Sixtus monastery , Brother Alfons 40 years later:

He grew up after the traditional rule of our family: pious, very helpful and devout. Trappist monks handed us Rudis baptismal certificate, which was written in the „Église Sainte Marie“ in Shaerbeek. The father abbot of the monastery on Orval had organizes Rudi’s baptism and Rudi got a catholic education in a pious family with many children. In the night from the 21st to the 22nd of July 1944, the planes of the allies enlightened the midnight sky „like on a bright summer afternoon“ above the westflamic city.



Kotrijk, not even a mile away from Nieuwenhove. „They throw fire pots from the sky“ a time witness has written. You could see the shining far in the country. The Germans did not spare with the “Retaliatory rockets“. The war came to an new devastating turn.
Hitler’s “Wunderwaffen“ was in advance. In the success of the so called „flying Bombs“, a revolutionary Development in the War technique, Hitler did not want to believe in for a long time.
The catastrophe of Stalingrad made him, produce a great amount of the „Wonder weapon“ of Doctor Wernher von Braun. In a huge underground factory in Thuringia, the biggest on the World, after 1943 over 60.000 prisoners installed about 6.000 rockets, of which about a third died because of the killing working conditions.
Now they came to inset. Ten days after the beginning of the invasion by the Allies, military targets in Northern France and Belgium were attacked with jet propulsion flying bomb V1. Propaganda minister Gobbles had made the perfidious suggestion, to do the insets in the morning or in the evening, when the population is going to work and not protected. The V2 rocket had a range of 380 kilometres, and with her maximum speed of 5500 hours per kilometre it was able to handle a watering-cart. The „Wunderwaffen“ developed a rapidity faster than the sound and you heard the Explosion even before you were able to realise it. The Flammic population was in Panic. The fright also did not find his end in East Europe. The polish Home Armee tried in the beginning of August 1944 without success to free “their“ Warsaw of the coming Red Armee.
The Russians did not do a thing to support the polish Rebels. On the 2nd of October the brave revolt ended.

Hitler gave order for the full destruction of Warsaw. At the same time the Allies succeed the venture to Paris, and on the 24th of August 1944 French armour troops marched again in their capital city. The German occupying troops capitulated.
But the Germans stayed persistent. Until the bitter end. In August 1944, shortly before the freeing of Belgium, Eichman again sent Anton Burger to Brussels. The „Vienna Blood dog“ was already in the middle of July 1942 as a support for his Brussels SS- colleague Kurt Asche detailed for couple of weeks to Belgium, but Eichman had other plans for his faithful vassal, an unparalleled sadist. He was supposed to become the notorious SS- Camp commander in the time between 1943 and 1944 of Theresienstadt. This Ghetto was in the Northwest of the Czech Republic. In the small Garnisonstown Terezin (Theresienstadt), which was founded in the late 18th century by the Emperor Joseph the II and named after his mother Maria Theresia, Jews from Germany and other West European Countries locked up from the “Protectorate Böhmen and Mähren“ preferably Jewish prominent figures old Jews and former German soldiers from the first World war. Terezin was used as the presentable Ghetto, as an example for the so- called humane accommodation for privileged Jews, who lived in a kind of self- administrated commune under so- called bearable conditions. All pretending for the International Red Cross. The cynical cosmetics deceived. After the Wannseemeeting you knew that this „healed World“ already at the beginning of 1942 was the bridgehead to Auschwitz. From here 63 Transports drove to the Destruction camps. Under the watchful eye of the brutal Camp commandant Anton Burger.

Now the cold- blooded executioner came again to Brussels and should eliminate all of them, who were still tangible. Bit the resistance movement as the Jewish uniting keeping and got the information at the right time. Not only that the Scary news were spread quickly between the affected ones. Also all the child- and orphanages were warned. Just like the already mentioned hostel Wenzenbeek- Oppem. Marie Albert and her competitions thought strategic. In the last minute they brought the little ones in security to the neighbourhood, to the grocer, baker or butcher, in monasteries and schools.
Some of the bigger children, in Khaki-cape, the yellow star was just loosely tacked on, got bravely sent on their way with Bread in their bag and under supervision. Well- disciplined becoming part of a group and happy singing should simulate a walk. At the first opportunity they made a run. Each child had his own address learned by heart and knew where he had to go. The smallest were just picked up from the cradle, and they went by tram to the nuns of Sacré Coeur in Auderghem. There they were accomodated confidentially. The warden of the home, Marie Albert, left the house last, took at tram stop “Quatre Bras” route 45 and went with little Reizele to Rue Jordan. There the three year old girl was accommodated at family Uylenbrock. She was well, the hostess later said: ”But she would not eat, still waiting for the bell to announce the meals, as it was familiar to her.”
During their last raid in Wezenbeck-Oppem the Germans found just a deserted home. They smashed everything to pieces.

The “Wiener Bluthund” Anton Burger got off lightly. After the end of the war he lived on calmly and with wrong identity in Germany. He died in 1991. Only 1994 Simon Wiesenthal got onto him. Two years too late for earthly justice.
On September 2nd, 1944 the allies crossed the Belgian border. On September 5th Brussels was liberated.
In Waregem, too, one sighed with relief. Unfortunately they were a bit rash. In euphoric mood the citizens believed their municipality fially freed, because armoured cars of the allies were sighted at the “Schelte-bridge” and along the “Leie” at dawn. The joy was overwhelming. Belgian flags flapped in wide opened windows, the liberators should after all be welcomened with cheering, and the whole village was in the pubs in thrill of victory. Too early. On this sunny 5th of September German troops took up a fortified position on the other bank of the “Leie”.
On the 6th of September seven partisans ran into them. They were put straight before a firing squad in front of a hedge of a small farm by soldiers of the “Wehrmacht”.
A senseless act between war and peace.
One day after, Hitler´s troops left the village Waregem and its environs for ever. But the joy in the small municipality was worn off. On September 10th, 1944 the seven brave men were buried under great participation of the local population.

“…Cheers to the freedom-Vive la Belgique-in great honour. Now I can again go everywhere, without having this awful fear. I am no longer in need of hiding myself. Yesterday I also filled in three pieces of paper of the “Rote Kreuz” with each 25 words.



One at my dear wife, one at my relatives in New York and one at a compatriot, who is married in Basel. But months could pass until I get response (…) If you know a good remedy against rheumatism, I am asking for it. My left foot is aching horribly. I can hardly go.”

It was September 24th , 1944, and Fritz Mannheimer was a free man. Yes, a free man.

“(…) After all, I went through in the last 65 months, so since the time when I came to Belgium as a refugee, I must say today, I am much happier than before. It is something great to have the feeling of being free and no longer being persecuted.
When I would go to bed in the evenings, I was far from being sure that the “Gestapo” would not drag me from my warm bed suddenly and beat me to death or let me croak miserably, though I can prove anyone, that in my life I did not say or do anything against the follower of this contemptible regime. I let each to his own and I always was happy and pleased if I got away with it. (…) what it means to vegetate in a foreign country as a 57 year old man. Without the help of the Saint Sixtus Abbey in Westvleteren I could not have kept ma freedom here”, Mannheimer added relieved on October 10th, 1944.

One day later, on October 11th, 1944 the chairwoman of the National Belgian Association for children, Yvonne Nevejean, and some jewish comrades met in Brussels at notary Charles Moureaux and founded a new charitable association: L`Aide aux Israélites Victimes de la Guerre, with the aim to help jewish victims of the war. No easy undertaking. Because, after the great joy about being victorious over the murderers, disillusionment and dismay at the material and emotional destitute of the survivors came.
First of those, who had been able to save themselves in Belgium.

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