Audrey Hepburn and the Netherlands: Espionage & Elegance During War

For Audrey Hepburn, behind the flawless Givenchy gowns and poised performances lay a story far more profound, shaped not by the glamour of Hollywood but by the harsh realities of war. Before she became an icon of elegance, Audrey Hepburn navigated the turbulence of Nazi-occupied Netherlands. Survival, resistance, and quiet courage defined her adolescence, revealing a resilience inscribed into her very essence.

Photo Audrey Hepburn in a scene from Roman Holiday, a 1953 film directed by William Wyler 1953 – Touring Club Italiano 04

From Aristocracy to Occupation

Born to an Anglo-Irish banker and a Dutch baroness, Hepburn began life within the safety of aristocracy. But war doesn’t bend to privilege. Her world unraveled as Nazi occupation gripped the Netherlands. Her father abandoned the family, leaving her mother, Ella van Heemstra, to shield her children through mounting uncertainty. Relocating to Velp in 1939, they sought refuge, only to find themselves swept further into the conflict.

The loss came swiftly and brutally. Hepburn’s uncle, Otto van Limburg Stirum, was executed in an act of Nazi retribution, a cruelty that she later referred to as “the end of innocence.” Meanwhile, the family’s Jewish heritage—discovered only years later—remained a deeply buried secret as Nazi soldiers seized their home. What could be said when even silence came at a cost? Hepburn would later recall walking to school past lifeless bodies in the streets. “Silence,” she said, “became our language.”

Hans Gerber, CC BY-SA 4.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0>, via Wikimedia Commons

Ballet as Subversion

For Hepburn, ballet began as a sanctuary where rhythm and movement hushed the chaos outside. But this refuge soon transformed into resistance. Under the guidance of her Jewish instructor, Winja Marova, Audrey refined her craft, performing in clandestine shows held behind blackout curtains. These secret evenings were not merely acts of rebellion, but defiance personified. Proceeds helped fund the Dutch Resistance, while the performances reminded audiences that hope, like beauty, could exist even in darkness.

Yet Hepburn’s role extended beyond pirouettes. Fluent in Dutch, English, and German, she became a courier for the Resistance, weaving through Nazi checkpoints with messages tucked into her clothing or shoes. Her knowledge of Velp’s terrain proved invaluable, once guiding an RAF pilot to safety under the guise of innocence. “She wasn’t just transporting letters,” one biographer noted. “She was delivering hope.” Each task carried immeasurable risk, but every silent act of defiance revealed her quiet resolve.

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The Hunger Winter

By the winter of 1944, the tides of war brought famine. Food became a memory. Audrey survived on tulip bulbs and nettle tea, her weight dropping to 88 pounds. Malnutrition haunted her in ways physical and unforgettable, manifesting later as a lifelong respect for the scarcity she endured. Even in the gaunt days of the “Hunger Winter,” she risked herself further, smuggling food to Resistance fighters while aiding the wounded in makeshift hospitals.

These were lessons etched in deprivation, lessons she carried into adulthood like the bread crusts she habitually tucked into her purse. “Hunger strips you of everything but instinct,” she reflected decades later while advocating for UNICEF. “It’s a lesson you never forget.”

ETH-Bibliothek Zürich, Bildarchiv / Fotograf: Comet Photo AG (Zürich) / Com_C05-271-001 / CC BY-SA 4.0, CC BY-SA 4.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0>, via Wikimedia Commons

Ingenuity Over Force

Audrey Hepburn’s wartime acts in the Netherlands resembled choreography, where every step needed precision. She used her youthful demeanor as a shield, helping the Resistance through unconventional and ingenious means. A dancer’s slipper was more than costume—it became a vessel, hiding messages soldiers presumed unworthy of suspicion. Her German fluency allowed her to overhear critical conversations, which she relayed with care. At times, she disguised herself as a florist, her baskets holding blooms and reconnaissance.

Her most harrowing missions involved aiding Dr. Hendrik Visser ’t Hooft, a Resistance surgeon, to protect Jewish families. One memory described her hiding in a bomb crater to evade an SS patrol, supplies clutched in her arms—and survival balanced precariously with bravery.

FakirNL, CC BY-SA 4.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0>, via Wikimedia Commons

Liberation

When liberation came in 1945, the war had taken its toll. Hepburn’s dreams of becoming a professional ballerina faded, her body too frail from hunger to sustain the rigorous demands of the stage. Still, one path’s end birthed another. Acting, once incidental, became a lifeline. It allowed her to transform her inner strength into something lasting, something shared. Roles like The Nun’s Story mirrored her wartime poise, while her advocacy work with UNICEF decades later was a tribute to the resilience forged in her youth.

“I could have been a number in a death toll,” she once said, reflecting on her survival. “Instead, I’m a voice for those who weren’t as lucky.”

Hepburn’s work with UNICEF became her chance to return the kindness that sustained her during the leanest years. It was an extension of her story—not an afterthought, but a full circle of compassion.

Audrey Hepburn’s legacy in the Netherlands carries contradictions as delicate as they are formidable. She was a soft glamour figure, yet her strength was forged in privation. The poise that graced so many films began not in luxury but in shadows—stepping carefully past checkpoints, starvation, and fear. Hers is not the story of an untouchable icon but of someone deeply human, whose courage reminds us that elegance is not the absence of hardship but the triumph over it.

Hepburn leaves us with a truth that transcends history through every frame of her life—whether on screen, on stage, or in the quiet acts of wartime resistance. Courage is not always loud. Grace, even in the darkest hours, can create light.