"Oh no! That is impossible, and, after all, we are not afraid of Japan either. You had better write in your paper that we are not afraid of anything excepting Montenegro. And you may also inform your readers that it is better for Netherlanders not to cross the frontier, as we are going to apply much stricter measures. For we have evidence that those people from Visé and other villages who fled to The Netherlands are returning with forged papers, in order to shoot at us. And now you may go, but back to Maastricht at once."
"But will you then please give me a pass, otherwise I may be detained again on my way back."
"Oh yes! You may have that!"
And the commanding officer gave me a pass, on which this very same colonel who had prohibited me to write in my paper what troops were at Riemst, put a stamp on that pass, which contained the German eagle, and besides this the words: "Royal Prussian 8, Reserve Infantry Regiment, II Battalion." This confirmed what the rumours said, that the troops who had passed through Visé and other places during the last days and committed those atrocities there, were the reserves which had been called up, among whom discipline is less strict than among the younger men, who arrived in these districts during the earlier days.
Although I had been commanded to return "at once" to Maastricht, I succeeded in having a chat here and there with the inhabitants of Riemst. I had visited the village about eight days ago, but what a change! Then the people assured me that "die Duutschen"[2] were not so bad after all, that they were compelled to do their duty, and were kind to the inhabitants if these were kind to them.
And at present? Every word expressed hate, profound hate, hardly controlled. They trembled all over when they spoke in deep, inspiring voices about "die Duutschen."[2]
Everything of value had been stolen from them: horses, cows, sheep, carts, bicycles, everything, everything!—only in some cases payment was made with tickets, which might be cashed after the war. During the night the German soldiers slept in the rooms, but the inhabitants—men, women, children, babies and sick persons—they locked in barns and cellars, which they boarded up.
I was not allowed to return by bicycle, and left it at a café at the crossing of the roads to Tongres and Riemst. A couple of days later the Germans had already abstracted the tyres.
The road to The Netherlands was strewn over with empty wine-bottles.