When German soldiers were fired upon from between or inside the houses, perhaps by resistance fighters, the situation on Kerkplein became grim and chaotic. The hunted and frightened Germans then took 42 hostages. Godfried Kerkhof was one of them:
When we came out of the church, a German patrol immediately lined us up against the wall. They took the priest out of the rectory and then continued down Kerkstraat and Kloosterstraat, where they went to get more. And they lined them all up against the wall
And then a bomb fell on the cannon that was there. BOOM!
With their hands above their heads and their noses pressed against the facade of a house, three machine guns were positioned behind the hostages. Father Houtmortels and Father Luykx, who were also with the hostages, were ordered to warn the people that a hostage would be shot any time the German soldiers were fired upon.
Suddenly the English liberators of the King's Company of the Grenadier Guards bombarded the church square:
And then a bomb fell on the cannon that was there. BOOM! Then the Germans forced us into that trench under the linden trees. There was a German lying next to me with a machine gun strap over his shoulder, and then they started shooting, damn it. They shot down two trees, and all those branches came crashing down
The British continued shelling Kerkplein from Norbert Neeckxlaan, but simultaneously made a detour, ending up behind what is now the Baudouin School. From there, they managed to mortally wound the German officer in charge of Kerkplein's defense with a single, well-aimed shot. Losing their leader and the north, the Germans fled. They crossed Bridge 12 into the Netherlands via Lepelstraat and Gestelsedijk. The hostages were free!
"We stayed there for a while until the Germans left, and then one of them was lying against that linden tree; I can still see him lying there. Someone stole his binoculars. His head was nearly blown off, that boy. And at the gendarmerie, there were also three or four dead. The other Germans jumped on a Tiger tank, which was coming out of Stationsstraat, and escaped to Holland that way."
And when we got home, I was completely lost. My hair stood on end. Dirty from the sand, dust, and filth. My father took care of me, and I cried for half an hour straight from the tension. We were liberated, in the truest sense of the word