Eileen's testimony: a memory that spans generations

Joël PARE
Sep 14
4 min read

In this testimony, Eileen reflects on the weight of family silence and the transmission of war wounds through the generations. Her story is part of the International Bulletin of Encounter Reconciliation .

About the author and the International Bulletin

This article is from the Bulletin International, a journal founded and edited by Gonda Scheffel-Baars, a founding member of the Dutch association Werkgroep Herkenning (Recognition).

Since 1995, the International Bulletin has provided a unique space for dialogue and remembrance for war children in Europe—children of resistance fighters, the persecuted, collaborators, and enemy soldiers. For over thirty years, Gonda Scheffel-Baars has collected and disseminated testimonies from the Netherlands, Germany, France, Scandinavia, and the United Kingdom, providing a better understanding of the wounds inherited from the Second World War and how they are passed down through generations.

Un carnet ancien, symbole des mémoires transmises entre générations

The publication of these stories, translated into several languages on our site, is part of the mission of the Rencontre Réconciliation association: to make known in France and Europe the diversity of family histories marked by war, and to contribute to mutual recognition and reconciliation.

To find out more about the International Bulletin: www.werkgroepherkenning.nl

Eileen is one of those heirs of history who carry, sometimes despite themselves, the memory of a troubled past. Between transmitted memories, heavy silences, and personal questions, her story bears witness to the way in which wars still shape lives today. Through simple but profound words, she invites us to reflect on intergenerational transmission and the possible path towards intimate and collective reconciliation.

Eileen's Story - Family Memory and Transmission

A birth under the sign of war

For decades, Eileen was convinced she was the daughter of a German soldier, a "child of the enemy." Born in April 1946 in a Dutch internment camp where her mother was being held, her start in life was not the most favorable. Her mother, Anja, had collaborated with the Germans and, when it was discovered she was pregnant, was arrested and interned. Everyone assumed her baby had been conceived with a German soldier. But Anja knew the child's father was actually a Canadian liberator, with whom she had had a brief relationship.

A childhood marked by separation

For the first year of her life, Eileen lived with her mother in the camp. However, the authorities soon decided that it was not a suitable environment for raising a child and planned to transfer her to an orphanage. Anja's parents—who had broken off all contact with their daughter because of her collaboration—learned of these plans and decided to take Eileen into their home. However, one day, the authorities decreed that Eileen could join her mother, who was now living in a reeducation center for former collaborators, where living conditions were much better than in the camp. In 1954, her mother was released, and Anja and Eileen could finally look forward to a more normal life.

The discovery of a Canadian father

At the age of 11, Eileen learned that her father was not German but Canadian. However, her mother remained evasive: "Ask me when you are 18, I will give you more information," she told her. Later, her mother married a customs officer, who already had a daughter. Anja, however, was harsh and violent with Eileen and her half-sister. The repeated abuse drove Eileen to leave home as soon as she could. She dreamed of becoming a doctor, but due to lack of money, she chose to train as a nurse in Wageningen.

At 18, Eileen returned to her mother to learn more about her father. But the information remained scant. She quickly discovered that there were many "Bill Whites" in Canada. Discouraged, she stopped her search.

Meeting a new family

Many years later, after reading the book Roots: The Voices of the Left Behind by Olga and Lloyd Rains, who dedicated their lives to helping the children of Canadian soldiers find their fathers, Eileen reconnected. With their help, she tracked down her family. That spring, she met her two Canadian half-sisters, April and Vanessa.

They told her that their father, Bill White, had volunteered as a military doctor and participated in the battles around Antwerp and in the liberation of the eastern provinces of the Netherlands. They described him as a warm and caring man. They were a little disappointed to discover that he had never spoken about his daughter in the Netherlands. Yet he knew of her existence, as Anja had informed him of her pregnancy. He had even sent clothes and money. But since Anja was incarcerated at the time, she was unable to respond to his letters. The Canadian sisters believe that their father had wanted to tell them about Eileen—he was the one who had chosen her first name—but that after the sudden death of his son William, at only 15 years old, he had stopped talking about the war, as it was too painful to recall.

A brotherly bond rediscovered

In the summer of 2011, Vanessa and April visited Eileen in the Netherlands. They saw firsthand that despite a difficult childhood, Eileen had found her calling. A renowned artist, she was also a beloved mother, wife, and grandmother. The two sisters, who had enjoyed a sheltered and happy childhood, felt almost guilty when they discovered Eileen's harsh beginnings. But they decided to look to the future.

Many years of sisterly bonding had been lost, but they still hoped to experience many more together. Eileen planned to travel to Canada to explore her father's country, particularly the Indian territories from which some of her family descended. "Now I understand why I have such dark eyes," she said, smiling.

A story of resilience and life

The story of Eileen and her stepsisters is at once a tale of war, suffering and loss, but also a story of love, resilience and life.

📌 Key points: Family memory and the quest for truth

Eileen's family memory has long been based on a founding lie: that she was the daughter of a German soldier.
Behind this maternal silence, there was in reality another story: that of a missing Canadian father, and unknown half-sisters.
The quest for truth, even late in life, has made it possible to transform a childhood marked by suffering and shame into a story of resilience and fraternal reunion.
This story reminds us that family memory is not fixed: it is rebuilt through research, dialogue and openness to rediscovered connections.