Having a narrow escape. Autumn 1959. Mornings, 04.00 hours. |
Fogbanks shove over the estates, the backs of the cattle are sticking just above the fog. |
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The big steel alarmclock of (I will call him Willem, just for convenience), was going off in a big plate full of pennies. He always did that, when he had to rise early. That way he was sure, he would not oversleep himself. Willem had to unload in Zuidwolde that morning at 06.00 and it was at least 2 1/2 hours drive from Uithuizermeeden in the northern parts of the province of Groningen. Moments later the heavy truck was rumbling into the direction of the province of Drenthe. |
Berend rubbed his eyes and had a look at the alarmclock. It was a quarter to six. He never set the alarm, because he had a built-in alarm in his head and it never let him down. |
Prabomoelih area, Sumatra 1948. |
Berend looked at his beautiful truck outside, he would drive carefully, because it would be a shame if his Mercedes L 312 would get some damage.
Grietje trusted upon the steermanship of her husband. She knew he was an experienced trucker. He'd earned that respect.
In his younger years, under awful circumstances in Indonesia, he had driven and gotten his experience and had been in worse predicaments. |
Just outside the village the engine had a neat operating temperature build up and Berend built up the speed. Gazing through the fog, he found his way. He knew this road by heart, but estimating distances in the fog is always difficult.
Berend had passed the hamlet called Steenbergen. The engine began running smoothly and soon he would pass the dam over the sluice. After that he could increase the speed, because there would no longer be trees close to the road. |
For the insurance the L 312 had to be transported to Borne, to the insurance-company. The chassis had to be inspected. For this purpose the cabin was mounted back to front and the dual tyres on the rear side were removed. The story from the life of a trucker, my father. The picture can be enlarged, when you click on it. |
I do however have to mention, that with the truck of my father, on the L 312, there was a "home-made"-cabine. That was done, because my father often had to travel that far, that he had to stay the night. Behind the chairs, there was a narrow shelf, that he could just lay upon. |
J. de Lange.
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