Fleeing war

I was 13 when the army invaded. Those who were around the last time it happened had told us about the atrocities they committed, and we were really scared. So, along with many others, my family and I packed a few belongings and fled.

My mother took our little dog along and he became our air strike warning. He would hear - or feel, I'm not sure - the planes before we did, so whenever he started whining, we took cover, often in ditches. My mother would cover us with a big red blanket. I don't know what kind of protection she thought that was! The noise from the planes was terrifying, the bombs were even more so.

We crossed the border, but we were not welcome. Villages had signs saying there was no water for us. We were exhausted. We had to sleep in ditches.

At one point we met another family who came from the same village as we did. One of the boys, who would become my husband once we grew up, wrote me a card. I still have it. But we lost each other again  that time and only saw each other again when we came back to our village.

I understand those people fleeing war. We did the same thing.

- my grandmother

When the German army invaded Belgium in 1940, 2 millions Belgians, Dutch and Luxemburgers fled and became refugees in France.