Corrie Doelman (b. 1936 in the Netherlands) was blinded during the Second World War (WWII). 'German soldiers were billeted at my parents' farm in 1944. The top brass slept in the best room while the ordinary soldiers slept in the barn. One afternoon, about twenty Germans were standing in a circle in our yard. I was curious and went and stood with them. They were being taught about how to use an anti-tank grenade. A soldier pressed the grenade and it exploded. I fell down. Next to me, I heard a German groaning. I later heard that his innards were hanging out. Somebody cycled to Vlaardingen to get an ambulance. I was badly injured. I had wounds on my chin, my throat, my hands and my shoulder. I couldn't see a thing, and my face was black from the explosive charge. Years later, a plastic surgeon operated on me twelve times because of the explosive fragments in my skin. After the last time he said, ''You can glue a cracked jug back together again but it will never be as good as new. You will just have to laugh a lot.'' I was a teacher for twenty-five years at a school for the blind. I worked by using my sense of hearing. My ears were my eyes. In 1983, a brain tumour was removed from behind my left ear. As a result, I went deaf in that ear. I could no longer tell whether a sound was coming from in front of me or behind me. Because of this I was declared unfit for work, which I found extremely difficult. Nowadays, I often listen to the radio and the television. I also love listening to birds. Yesterday, my guide and I took the train to Egmond aan Zee where we listened to the nightingales in the dunes. It was beautiful.'