A rare act of kindness between enemies — repaid with grace after the war — has echoed down through two generations to become the inspiration for a Canadian rock song.

“So It Goes,” by Toronto-based indie rockers Hollerado, tells the poignant story of a World War II Dutch resistance fighter whose life was spared by a German officer, whose own life the Dutch soldier then helped save by testifying at his war-crimes trial.

Thanks to each man’s act of compassion, both went on to have full lives — and grandsons who would meet some 70 years later and raise a beer to these unlikely allies.

“The story embodies so much — it’s about respect between two humans in the most terrible times,” said Hollerado lead singer Menno Versteeg, whose grandfather, Karel Versteeg, was the Dutch resistance fighter.

“If our grandfathers hadn’t met each other in these awful times and had the opportunity to speak to each other and develop a mutual respect for each other, neither of us would even be alive today,” said Versteeg of his German counterpart. “Our lives are intertwined in such an interesting way.”

The two soldiers actually bonded during interrogation, when Karel Versteeg, who had been caught in Rotterdam by the Nazis, asked the German intelligence officer what he would do if his own hometown were occupied, bombed and on fire, as Rotterdam was.

The officer replied, “I would do the same thing you’re doing; I would fight back,” Menno Versteeg said.

“‘And I’m going to keep you alive.’”

The officer sentenced the Dutch father of four to solitary confinement in the notorious Orange Hotel prison, but released him early when it became clear the Germans were about to lose the war.

“My grandfather told him he would testify on his behalf after the war,” Menno Versteeg said. “And he did, and it ended up saving his life.”

Menno started to write the song the day his beloved “Opa” died last year at 95, a full 60 years after moving to Canada with his wife and seven children, one of whom was Menno’s father. A history buff who grew up prying war stories out of his grandfather, the 33-year-old singer decided his Juno-nominated band should film the music video for “So It Goes” in Rotterdam, the city where his grandfather’s fate was changed.

But Menno Versteeg was also driven to track down the German soldier’s family. With the help of the Dutch government, he discovered a grandson in Munich, where the two held an emotional meeting.

“The German grandson is an educated, smart social activist who knows the horrific things that went on during the war,” said Versteeg. “But our grandfathers respected each other as people with families who were being forced to do terrible things, but who weren’t evil.

“It was the darkest time, but a lot of people have stories that show these moments of light.”

His German counterpart has asked Versteeg not to release his name or the name of his grandfather and has declined to speak publicly, except for a poignant thank-you, in halting English, in the moving 10-minute documentary music video:

“Thank you for coming, and from my family, thank you that your grandfather testified on behalf of my grandfather,” said the young man, who said he was relieved to hear his grandfather also saved lives during the war.

“So I think the circle really is closing.”

To Versteeg, it was not that surprising his grandfather got caught. The Rotterdam lawyer chose to pose as a veterinarian to gain free passage through the city, complete with forged degree, “but he had no clue about veterinary medicine. When the Germans asked him to cure their dogs or horses, he kind of just hoped they’d get better.

Loading... Loading... Loading... Loading... Loading... Loading...

“After enough horses and dogs died under his care,” said Versteeg, the jig was up and he was arrested and sentenced to be executed — only to be spared by his jailer.

The song lyrics don’t avoid the grim facts of war. Resistance fighters had to kill enemy soldiers, sometimes in the process of hijacking truckloads of weapons, and other times to steal food to feed Dutch families who were starving under the occupation.

“They actually had to eat tulip bulbs, which my grandfather said was the probably the most disgusting thing of all,” Versteeg said. “He told me he used to eat crushed egg shell for calcium. You did what you had to do to stay alive.”

His grandfather never lost that gumption, with a twist of humour.

“He came to Canada completely broke with seven kids and got a job selling furniture door-to-door, which wasn’t going too well,” recalled Versteeg. “One day he walked into a church to try to sell furniture, but the minister said, ‘What I really need is someone to fix my broken stained-glass windows.’”

What a coincidence, replied Karel Versteeg; “I also do stained-glass windows!”

Which he actually did not, but he asked a friend to show him the basics and went on to build a career making stained-glass windows for churches in Toronto and the Ottawa area.

“He had a really unique style and he got more and more jobs — his windows are in churches all over the city,” said Versteeg, whose favourite is in the St. Joseph’s chapel of St. Regis College at the University of Toronto.

His factory burned down in the 1960s, when his wife also passed away from cancer.

“He faced a lot of adversity, but he overcame it with such a positive attitude,” said Menno. “He always told me, ‘No matter what happens, you keep going.’”

Menno Versteeg has a small tattoo on his forearm. It says: Keep Going.