My grandmother lived in the Netherlands during the occupation, so did most of the rest of my family. There was an uncle somewhere that was in the Dutch underground resistance, but I don't know much about him. My grandmother however told me some of her stories. I might be really messing up the sequence of events, but this was from a conversation I had like 1-2 years ago, so I don't remember all the exact details. Anyway, She lives right in the south of the Netherlands, and really close to the German border. She already did back then. So when the fighting started, she knew. She could hear it going on. She told me about the bullets hitting the roof of her house, the airplanes flying over. The Germans struck without warning, so the frontline was among the innocent. She describes it as one of the scariest times of her life. I will get to the other one soon. when bullets started hitting the rooftop of her building.
The Netherlands didn't stand for long, and soon the occupation had begun. My grandmother was told to house two German soldiers. They were rather conflicting personalities, I'm told. One was a total supporter of Hitler and all the things he was doing and had done. The other dreaded the fact that this was the way he made his living. She got along quite well with the latter. I don't know much about them other than that, but at some point they disappeared out of her life, so I can only assume that they both died in action. I'm not sure if the following happened during the liberation or during the initial battling for the Netherlands, but it was when there was a lot of fighting going on. the area my grandmother lived in was at this point (still?) under German occupation. Someone tried to smuggle her out to a safehouse away from the occupation, which involved pretending to be a soldier, so by extension hoping that the guarding soldiers they had to pass by didn't notice that she was a woman. It was a rather tense journey, but it somehow all worked out.
The safehouse on the other hand, not so much. It was right near the frontline, which meant that by the morning, a series of grenades had made sure that the house was barely still standing. This was the other scariest moment, or rather night, of her life.
They were liberated by the Scots not too long after. She seemed to fondly remember the nights of partying that followed, and she probably will for the rest of her life.
That's all I can remember she told me for now. I might be missing some stuff, but as you can tell it was a rather exciting, but at the same time horrifying time for her. Or, as Jace would say: World War 2 is unrealistic.