Mona
was
crammed
once
more
into
the
airless
cattle
car
of
a
train,
this
time
northbound
for
a
prison
in
Vechta.
The
prison
had
been
a
reform
school
for
girls
prior
to
the
war,
but
the
inmates
were
released
when
the
need
for
space
to
house
foreign
prisoners
increased.
Shortly
after
Mona's
arrival
another
small
group
of
prisoners
was
delivered
to
Vechta.
One
young
woman
was
confined
to
her
cell
and
not
permitted
to
join
the
other
prisoners
for
meals
or
exercise.
Though
initially
unsure
why
her
prison-mate
had
to
abide
by
special
restrictions,
Mona
felt
sorry
for
her
and
attempted
to
make
contact,
if
only
to
boost
the
young
woman's
spirits
and
to
let
her
know
she
had
one
friend
in
the
prison.
At
the
end
of
her
kitchen
detail,
Mona
slipped
a
cooked
potato
undetected
into
a
secret
pocket
she
had
sewn
in
the
skirt
of
her
uniform
for
the
purpose,
and
smuggled
it
to
the young woman. Grateful, the newcomer accepted the gift.
The
recent
arrival
introduced
herself
as
Wendelien
van
Boetzelaer,
a
22-year
old
baroness
and
university
student
who
had
been
rounded
up
with
several
others
for
prolonged
resistance
activity.
Although
Wendelien
was
struck
by
Mona's
almost
wild-eyed
appearance
and
a
cheerful
demeanor
that
bordered
on
manic,
she
recalled
more
than
50
years
later
that
what
impressed
her
most
about
Mona
was
her
life
force.
"She
had
a
great
repertoire
of
songs.
She
had
naughty
songs,
happy
songs…."
And
with
the
inventive
humor
that
seems
to
have
been
consistent
among
those
who
survived
long
terms
in
Nazi
prisons
and
camps,
Mona
entertained
her prison-mates.
Mona quickly acquainted Wendelien with the hierarchy of the prison.
The
prison
director,
Mona
had
discovered,
was
not
like
her
Nazi
counterparts.
In
fact,
she
was
a
lesbian,
and
as
such
was
not
sympathetic
to
the
Nazi
persecution
of
homosexuals.
She
had
compassion
for
most
of
the
women
in
her
charge,
though
she
was
not
willing
to
risk
her
life
or
position
for
them.
As
long
as
she
was
head
of
the
prison,
she
could
take
care
of
the
women
in
some
way.
Imprisoned or dead, she could be of no help.
Mona
persuaded
the
prison
director
to
let
Wendelien
out
of
her
cell
to
join
the
rest
of
the
prisoners
for
work
tasks,
meals
and
to
take
exercise.
Although
daily
life
in
the
prison
was
bleak,
Mona
knew
it
was
better
to
be
with
the
general
population
than
cooped
up
alone
in
a
damp
cell
every
cold
winter
day.
When
assigned
to
kitchen
duties,
both
women
smuggled
pieces
of
cooked
potatoes
to
share with women assigned to other tasks in the prison.
Exercise
in
the
prison
yard
consisted
of
prisoners
shuffling
along
single
file
in
a
circle.
Talk
was
most
dangerous
during
these
sessions.
The
exercise
was
torturous
for
malnourished
women
clad
in
thin
clothing.
The
pace
at
which
they
needed
to
walk
to
create
some
warmth
was
not
allowed,
so
they
struggled
along,
enduring
the
cold
until
they
could
seek
shelter
inside
the
old
building,
which
wasn't
much
warmer
but
which
at
least
offered
some
protection
from the elements.
On
returning
indoors
after
one
such
session,
Wendelien
quickly
told
Mona
that
she
was
going
to
attempt
another
escape.
As
soon
as
she
had
the
opportunity,
Mona
asked
Wendelien
how
and
when
she
would
accomplish
this.
Wendelien
said
she
didn't
know;
an
opportunity
was
sure
to
present
itself,
in
time,
and
both
of
them
had to be ready to seize it.
Mona and Wendelien noticed an increase in plane traffic in the skies over Vechta.
Wendelien was struck by Mona's almost wild-eyed
appearance and a cheerful demeanor that bordered
on manic
Just
after
the
middle
of
March,
Mona
and
Wendelien
noticed
an
increase
in
plane
traffic
in
the
skies
over
Vechta.
They
expected
an
air
attack
was
imminent,
and
surmised
that
the
planes
overhead
were
on
missions
beyond
bombing
selected
targets.
In
anticipation
of
her
next
opportunity
to
escape,
Wendelien
asked
the
prison
director
for
a
sweater
that
was
among
the
belongings
taken
from
her
when
she
was
admitted
to
the
prison.
She
cited
the
bone-chilling
dampness
and
her
rheumatism
as
grounds
for
needing
extra
warmth,
but
her
real
reason
was
to
have
an
extra
piece
of
non-prison
issue
clothing
on
her
when
the
time
came
to
escape.
Buoyed
by
her
success,
Wendelien
encouraged
Mona
to
ask
for
her
shoes
on
the
same
grounds
-
that
the
wooden
prison
clogs
were
inadequate
to
keep
her
feet
warm.
If
the
prison
director
suspected the real reason for their requests, she never let on.
On
March
22,
1945,
Patton's
troops
crossed
the
Rhein
at
Oppenheim;
at
the
same
time,
about
150
miles
down
river
from
Patton's
location,
Montgomery
was
completing
preparations
for
his
troops'
surge
across
the
Rhein
at
Wesel.
Late
at
night
on
March
23,
Operation
Plunder
was
launched
with
a
tremendous
bombardment.
Early
the
next
morning,
March
24,
Operation
Varsity
augmented
Plunder,
while
members
of
the
North
Nova
Scotia
Highlanders
were
part
of
the
force
that
readied
itself
to
continue
the
advance,
observed
from
an
Allied
command
post
by
Winston
Churchill.
One
wonders
what
Mona's
reaction
would
have
been
had
she
known
that
her
fellow
Nova
Scotians
were
so
near
at
hand
and
about
to
play a supporting role in her dramatic bid for freedom.
The
inmates
were
just
starting
their
workday
when
the
Allied attack was unleashed on their position.
According
to
Wendelien,
a
general
panic
quickly
ensued,
which
included
guards
throwing
themselves
on
the
floor,
crying
"Ich
will
nicht
sterben!"
("I
don't
want
to
die!")
The
director,
concerned
about
the
fate
of
her
charges,
unlocked
the
prison
gates
and
shouted
that
the
prisoners
had
a
choice.
They
could
go
to
the
prison's
bomb
shelter,
or
they
could
take
their
chances
outside
in
the
hail
of
bombs
and
gunfire.
The
director
had
no
chance
to
reconsider
her
offer
before
Wendelien
grabbed
Mona's
hand,
and
both women bolted out into the mayhem.
"I
don't
know
what
we
used
for
energy,"
mused
the
baroness
53
years
later.
"Especially
Mona.
She
was
particularly
thin
and
weak.
She
had
been
in
Nazi
prisons
for
more
than
three
years. But then, maybe that's what drove her on."
Fear
prevailed
over
exhaustion,
and
the
two
proceeded
in
what
they
thought
was
a
westerly
direction
toward
Holland;
without
a
map
or
a
compass
they
couldn't
be
entirely
certain
of
their course.
Gradually,
the
relentless
bombing
subsided,
and
as
night
approached
they
found
shelter
in
the
barn
of
a
deserted
farm.
There,
for
the
first
time
in
their
brief
re-acquaintance
with
liberty,
they
began
to
realize
that
they
were,
indeed,
free.
There
was
little
time
to
examine
their
rapidly
changing
emotions
-
disbelief,
exhilaration,
fear,
giddiness,
panic,
the
desire
to
laugh,
shriek
and
cry
all
at
once
-
because
most
pressing
was
the
need
to
decide
their
next
step.
The
quiet
and
safety
of
the
barn
provided
them
with
their
first
opportunity
to
assess
their
situation
and
discuss
their strategy for returning home.