We stopped at a farm in Lexmond, and the family living there was very gracious and made us feel very welcome. In addition to farming, they had a business repairing wagons, plows, and the like. They fed us lunch with thick cheese sandwiches and had us drink milk, which was straight from the cow. Dad had to go back to Gorkum because he had several chronic patients in town who could not be evacuated, and if there was any fighting, wounded people could be expected. In the meantime, we had great fun running around the pastures and the orchards. I remember the cherry orchards in clouds of full pink bloom. The sons of the farmer were some ten years older than us and were happy to show us the farm and its equipment. Eventually they made us wooden swords from branches, and we had sword fights. Then Dad returned with the news that the evacuation had been canceled. We had looked forward to sleeping in the hayloft, but going home was even better.
