Winky and the goldfish - 1942

This is not something I remember, but it is so much part of the oral history, that I seem to remember. We were over two years into the Nazi occupation and times were getting tough, what with nightly curfews, blackouts, air-raid sirens, food growing scarce etc. The Nazis had requisitioned our wonderful apartment near Scheveningen to billet some officers, so we were forced to move our furnishings into a smaller flat on the Escamplaan, a step down in neighbourhood which irked my Tantes.

We didn't leave a scrap behind for the Nazis, not even the broadloom, but alas, the beautiful bathtub had to be left behind. We were only given a couple of hours to vacate so my father, my Godfather, Gert van den Steenhoven (Oom Steen), my two tantes and my mother developed an ingenious way of spiriting away all the household goods that we should have left behind. They took turns wheeling the stuff to the Escamplaan in my comodious English pram. Those German officers were in for a rude shock when they moved in, no carpets, no curtains, no stove, nothing remained of the beautiful apartment they were promised.

I don't know why, but on the Escamplaan, my parents acquired a large goldfish to amuse me. Apparently I was very fond of that fish. So was Winky. He watched it swimming in its bowl for weeks. One evening my mother discovered an empty bowl, a small puddle on the floor, a contented cat and no goldfish. I was already in bed so she urged my poor father to go out and find a replacement before I woke up. He combed the city looking for a large fish that resembled Winky's supper. Finally he returned home successful. The new fish went into the bowl and my parents went to bed. The next morning I visited my fish, and announced that the fish must be sick, because it had shrunk. Indeed it had, because the new fish was smaller. I recall it lived for several years with a cover on the bowl and Winky never stopped watching that fish.