Helping Holland Rebuild Her Land
3 77
Gibby. 'They can't get around these tight
corners."
But they did, sometimes backing the en
gine and often nudging the walls, and we
rambled on through the city's "water streets."
Entering Amsterdam's famous harbor, we
passed a curious little round tower with a
balcony.
"The Weepers' Tower, where wives and
sweethearts walked the balcony, waiting for
the men to come back from the sea," said the
guide.
"Twenty-nine," Gibby said, as the tour
ended.
"Twenty-nine what? Girls who winked
back at you?" asked Charlie.
"No, bridges. We passed under 29."
Students Ad-lib in Eight Languages
The rest of the day we prowled on foot.
We liked the old section best, with its tiny
alleys and its houses leaning precariously
over the sidewalks.
One curious side street is only wide enough
for a man to squeeze through. As Charlie put
it, a man with a big lunch under his belt
couldn't get past the corner.
Time to leave came all too soon. We took
the train back to Rotterdam and joined the
boys who would be our companions for the
next three weeks. An NBBS representative
introduced us all around.
Language was a problem at first. A minor
mishap showed us how to solve it. Philippe,
a French boy, had brought a bike into the
bus, and on a sharp corner it fell over. The
saddle hit Philippe in the ribs.
"Zut!" said Philippe. "Cette sacrée selle!"
"Nein," chimed in German Sven. "Das ist
ein Sattel!"
"Una sella," said Vittorio of Italy.
"Zadel," countered a Dutch youth.
And before we stopped kicking that subject
around, we could also name a saddle in Hun
garian, Danish, and Ewethe native tongue
of a boy from the African Gold Coast.
Camp conversations eventually became a
conglomeration of eight languages, with Eng
lish as the base. Most Western Europeans
study English in school. In addition, its use
as an international language of airmen is
spreading it rapidly around the globe.
In the bus we became acquainted with Er
nest, born in Hungary. He had lived and
studied in the Netherlands for many years
and knew a great deal about the country.
"The big dike over there," he said in his
excellent English, "is really two dikes. In
between them runs a canal that carries sea
going ships."
"I knew the Dutch made their land," said
Gibby, "but this is the first time I ever heard
they made their rivers, too."
Presently the masts and funnel of a big
ship appeared above the bank. About the
same time, our bus dived into a short tunnel
beneath the monstrous canal. Gibby claimed
afterwards that he had heard the thunder of
screws passing overhead, but Charlie said it
was only the rattle of a bus window.
Brielle is on Voorne Island. In 1572 the
"Sea Beggars," led by William de la Marck,
captured the town for Prince William the Si
lent. The battle signaled the general upris
ing that eventually brought independence
from the Spanish.
For this reason Brielle is dear to the hearts
of Dutchmen. It is a typically clean town,
its bright houses hung with shutters in strik
ing colors. Snowy lace curtains hang at spot
less windows (page 372).
Mirrors angling downward from second-
storv windows mystified us until Ernest ex
plained they were put up by householders so
they can see who is knocking at the front
door.
"A girl can look her suitors over with these,"
Ernest said. "Maybe she won't be 'at home'
after she takes a peep."
"That stops you in Brielle," Charlie taunted
his roommate. "Better pick the houses with
out mirrors!"
Nazi Bunker Becomes Home
"All out for the Youth Hostel!" shouted the
NBBS man.
We stared as we climbed out. Nothing re
sembling a human habitation was in sight.
"There, across the canal," said NBBS. "It's
a wartime German bunker. Unless you feel
like swimming, you get there on this iron
barge. You pull it across yourself, on a
cable" (page 373).
Home, partly underground, turned out to
be as comfortable as it was inconspicuous.
Concrete chambers that once housed Nazi
guns and soldiers now did duty as dormitories,
dayroom, and kitchen. Outside, rusty barbed
wire still festooned the grassy roof. Later, it
served us as a clothesline.
After a supper of meat and potatoes, we
drew lots for bunks. There were 40 students
