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They seemed to be everywhere, goose-stepping in their shining boots and battle helmets to loud music, roaring down the widest streets in trucks and official cars, drinking coffee in the caf�s, buying herring or ice cream from outdoor stalls and flirting with admiring Dutch girls.
Then there were the blackouts at night, a curfew and signs in German, Bahnhof pointing the way to the train station, Umleiting if they blocked off a street and you had to go another way. Nazi newspapers were sold on street corners, and swastika flags hung outside the buildings they had commandeered.
How relieved they felt that it wasn�t going to be like Germany. They just had to go on quietly with their lives and they�d be safe. New regulations were tolerated or carefully ignored until, when it looked like that was impossible, and it would be better to leave the country, take a new name, stay away from friends who might not be friends after all, for some people it was too late.