Steam drifted into the air. Slowly it crawled out of the cauldron and then dissolved in the wind. Diego leant over the boiling mashed potatoes and threw in the slices of carrot. Such strange food, these tubers. They were said to come from America and had been brought from there by the conquistadores. He knew the stories of the hardship and hunger that those men had endured, yet at least their adventures had paid off. His own adventure had stranded here, in a field under the cold and grey clouds of Holland. How much longer did they have to wait here?
For months they had besieged the city. The guards on the walls looked thinner and paler every day, almost as if they could collapse any moment. The spies brought reports that old people and children had already died of malnutrition and still, still those stubborn Dutchmen were unwilling to surrender. They had eaten all their animals, the straw in their stables, the bark of the trees and the grass, but they seemed to prefer starvation over defeat.

A few days ago hope had been near, for there were rumours the citizens were about to break. They had seen their sons and daughters die. They had burried their parents and knew that their own death was near. The spies had told how they had stumbled towards the city hall with the last strength they had and demanded that the mayor should surrender Leyden to the Spanish.

Thereupon, so the spies told, the mayor had grabbed his sword and offered it to the hungry people.
" If you are so desperate", he had said," Then chop off my arm and eat it."

That was the kind of man Pieter Adriaanszoon was. He would have himself cut in pieces and eaten rather than surrender to the duke of Alva...

Diego bent over the cauldron and sighed. How he longed for the blue skies of his native Andalusia, for the warmth of the sun and the smile of Spanish girls. Every day was colder and windier than the last and soon winter would arrive. Where he was concerned, the Dutch could keep their cold and miserable country. What did the king want with it? It was naught but swamps and polders...

Suddenly he heard a cry. One of the soldiers came running towards the camp.
" Flood!", he cried, " The land is flooding!"

He wasn't a moment too soon, for Diego could see how the water gushed towards them from the south. The speed was alarming, and he didn't wait for any orders. As quick as he could he ran towards his horse and mounted it. He didn't even care to saddle the steed, for it was as if God had commanded a new Great Flood. As fast as he could, he rode towards te dunes, and he saw he wasn't the only one who fled before the water. Around him, the soldiers broke off the siege and ran away in disarray.

---

The little girl looked at the merry-go-round and took a bite out of her cotton candy. The pink cloud stuck to her face and she smiled. She loved this day. There was no school and her daddy had just won her a teddybear. It was a very special day she knew, which had to do with a war a very long time ago, when people had fought about the city, until someone had destroyed the dikes so the Dutch soldiers could reach it by boat.
" What do we eat for dinner", she asked.
Her father laughed.
" Mashed potatoes of course."
" Why?"
" Because it is october 3."
" Oh yes... But why do people eat mashed potatoes at october 3?"
" When the Seabeggars came and chased the Spanish away, the hungry people came out of the city. They went to the Spanish camp and there they found a cauldron with mashed potatoes. It was the first food they had had in weeks, and hence we eat mashed potatoes every year..."