You and four other young people turn to a non-Jewish neighbor, Mr.
Drent, whose house on Prinsengracht has a small attic room. The Drents
have always been extremely friendly to Jewish people, and you have heard
them express their dislike of the Germans. You ask if you and your friends
can hide in the attic, at least for a few weeks until they can make other
plans. You feel bad asking them to take such a risk, but you have no
alternative. To your great relief, they agree, telling you: Anything we can
do to save our neighbors from the hated Nazis is our patriotic duty.
The attic is cramped, with barely enough room for the five of you to sleep. A bookcase conceals the door and is moved aside only late at night so that you can empty the chamber-pot, receive provisions for the next day, and stretch a little. You send most of your time reading and talking with each other in whispers. No sound and no light must escape from yourself-imposed prison, lest someone discover your hiding place.
The few weeks of your refuge stretch into eighteen months, but the
Drent family and their friends, the Van Dyks, won't hear of any change.
Don't worry,
they tell you. We Dutch will always stand by you.
However, one night, Storm Troopers dash through the house, looking for
your hiding place; you must have been betrayed by a collaborator.
If they find your secret refuge, continue to page 27.
If you remain undisclosed, continue to page 28.