Thursday 1st May 1862 a lovely warm day and a cloudless sky, Enschede the industrial town near the border of Germany was resplendent in festive decoration. The town (birthplace of many Leferink’s, my mother’s ancestors) was ready to receive the King. Rows of lamentable residences on strange angles with many manure heaps and rubbish collections were masked off with lots of green branches. ‘The King is coming’, His majesty was welcomed at the border by a guard of honour, 56 farmers on their horses and the music band of the 4th Regiment Dragoons. Everone cheered. The Enschedesche Courant reported the next day, ‘after the highly Esteemed, so much respected and loved Guest had departed, the festive mirth and serene contentment shone on all faces’.
Six days later they faced another splendid day weatherwise, but at 1.00 pm. cries of fire were heard. In no time, fanned by a strong wind the fire had spread furiously, darkening the sky with bulging black smoke.

Seven o’clock in the evening, the town of Enschede was a heap of smouldering rubble.

Most citizens spend the night in the open. Putting out fires was a hellish job at any time, but with the simple equipment in those days, it must have been horrendous. The firemen had to be very strong as the hoses had to be pulled by hand, up and down. For starters the brigade had pipe leaders, than hose leaders, hose carriers, sack carriers, lantern carriers and plenty of men to handle the pump. Lack of water was always a concern, canals were not everywhere, so large troughs with water were scattered through the town.