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Voskuil: On Monday, the 15^th of May 15 Japs came to visit. They came just at a time when the commandant didn’t feel well and Dr. Goedbloed was examining him. He appeared after some time and went for a walk through the camp with his visitors. When they returned to the Post they had a glass of lemonade and left.

In the evening the commandant beat the head of the native policemen. Apparently he had gone to Makassar without permission.

May 17 1944 Mrs. Prins was gored by a steer; she and several boys took care of the cows, among other things. This accident landed her in the hospital.

The commandant is being funny with his rifle; he acts like he wants to shoot the dog of Bellemee. I happened to enter the hall and noticed a gun barrel around the corner. I didn’t stay any longer than was necessary.

Friday, May 19: Three visitors arrived with the same driver that drove the Gestapo people here. With fear in my heart I politely handed them a piece of paper on which they were required to write their names by order of the commandant. After the paper was handed to the commandant he approached them immediately. We were surprised, however, not to hear the usual:” Tamu tinggi, hormat besar.” (high-ranking visitors, bow very low. OY) After a walk through the camp the visitors drank a glass of lemonade and left. After that a couple of regular Japs arrived, he felt much more at ease with them and asked them to dinner. Dinnertime was shortened because they summoned Mrs. Van den Broek with whom they had a pleasant conversation in Malay. They apparently were familiar with the place in Northern Celebes where she had lived. Then Maria Hofstra and Bep Palstra were called in, they had to show their drawings. In the end, they only seemed to be interested in the artwork of the painter Hofker. They chose 4 drawings and a painting, which on request of Mrs. Hofker, was returned to her. They wanted to buy the drawings, much against the wishes of Hofker. They had chosen wisely, she said later. No wonder, she told the commandant later that the one in the khaki uniform was a famous painter. She now waits for what she will get in return. She asked for strong fabrics for clothing.

May 20, 1944 Bellemee is not the housekeeper anymore, she will only ring the bell. He had called Klaus back. Daisy said that the commandant had told her that he would leave for Japan next month, and he would be gone for three weeks. It would take 3 days in the plane to get to his destination, then he would stay 20 days at home, and take 3 days for the return. He doesn’t have a replacement, he said that no2 can handle it.

May 27, 1944 Announcement: 100 flies per person must be delivered before 5 PM. Only the elderly will be exempt to deliver flies. Whoever will not comply will be put in a small stone cage on the cassava field. Jannie Compagne receives the flies and writes down the names of those that handed them in. The commandant himself is present to make sure that all is done properly, and Dr. Marseille dumps the flies in a bucket filled with creosote. All was done with a laugh, but in the meantime 14 ladies were punished for coming home too late from another barrack, and as punishment they must stand in the burning sun.

Seth Paul: In the meantime there is an increase in dysentery patients. The commandant organized a contest to see who could catch the most flies. The whole camp is busy. Everyone had a bucket with soap water. You catch the flies; sometimes seventy in one swoop with your hand, and dump them in the water. At the end of the day the buckets would be emptied and the barrack that had the largest heap would get soap and sugar. The flies, however, were not counted. But it was a fight against sewers and the sexual behavior of the fly. Several days later they’re back, by the thousands. They apparently had never heard about the pill, we didn’t either, at that time.

Chabot: Recurring thoughts of leaving are self-defeating. The need for change is sometimes so overpowering that it is possible to believe for 90% that we are indeed going to Java or Australia soon. The commandant delights in these rumors and makes ambiguous remarks, and laughs in our faces: “Orang Indonesia bodoh, tetapi belanda lebih bodoh.” (Indonesians are stupid, but he Dutch are worse. TS).

Those that work as pig tenders, and those that work in the cassava fields would be paid 15 cents a day, he said. These 15 cents would come out of the earnings of the knitters and the seamstresses. Fortunately the leaders recognize this attempt to sow dissension between these groups. But to keep our union strong, some odd concessions must be made. After Easter, all of a sudden prayers are held before and after school at elementary levels. The nuns always prayed and the Protestants did not want to be left out, so they agreed to a ‘neutral’ prayer. Non Christians did not agree, but they were so much a minority that nothing could be done about this newest rule. It is eye opening to see how many of us were converted to the Christian faith here.

May 28, 1944 It was Whitsuntide. Time flies. There are still small emotions, but we lack time to think about them. Yet, our work does not seem to increase. We work at our full capacity. Once a weaving loom was supposed to come here, but it fell through, fortunately. We are growing our own vegetables, so that none are brought in. Actually the amount of vegetables changes constantly, sometimes we have plenty, and at other times we have hardly any for weeks on time. To counteract this we have made a small private garden in the neighborhood of the ‘cage’ as it is called. This is a part of the barrack where we live. You can imagine how much work must be done to render this never tilled soil fertile enough to provide greens for 1,700 people.

There are three garden crews, women without children take care of the cassava fields and they are absolved from doing anything else because the work is so hard. One of these gals uses a plow with a team of water buffaloes every day.

Until now it rained so now and then, at other times it comes down in buckets, but during the dry season the only thing we can eat are the leaves of the cassava plant, the only plant that thrives without water. The commandant did see to it that natives water the gardens, this is a good sign, because he realizes that we simply cannot do any more.

The second job that takes a lot of strength is tending the pigs. The commandant aimed for 500 pigs and we’re almost there. We didn’t think we could do it. The last pens that were added have floors that were made of wooden board. All we have in our barracks is dirt, not even bamboo flooring.

Then there are the cows. About 15 of them give milk for those who need it the most. Water buffaloes come from outside and the Father, 2 women, and a couple of boys slaughter them. We get about 5 or 6 of them a week. Pigs are slaughtered only on very special occasions. They are fattened up for resale, and we get about two buffaloes for one fat pig. About 200 ducks provide eggs for the hospital. Rumor has it that 3,500 chickens will be delivered, this would be great, I have forgotten what a chicken egg tastes like.

Then there is the terrain crew; about 20 people keep up the roads, and haul wood to the kitchen that is delivered by natives. They also do al kinds of repair, in short they take care of all kinds of handy man jobs.

The market crew, about 12 women, unload trucks; some of the loads are drums with kerosene and coconut oil. Many of these women suffered from flat feet.(and hernia’s. – OY)

Pieces that are sewn at the sewing center are paid for by the piece. None of the 42 old are allowed to stay idle for longer than an hour. These people work long hours and deliver tremendous amounts of garments a day, 15 pants a day, for example. A few weeks ago they received an order on a Sunday: 40 trousers had to be cut and sewn together that same afternoon. Something like this happens when a navy crew lands in Makassar. The knitting of white men’s socks also is paid for. This is the sneakiest assignment: the weak and the elderly are put to work. Because you can knit 2 pairs with one clew of yarn, the rest is being used for private jobs. Many people knit on a voluntary basis. The earnings are put in a fund from which money is taken to pay for sugar and fruit.

Finally we come to the crews that cook, wash the cooking drums, clean the vegetables, and those that work in the barracks. The people who work in the barracks have small children so they cannot get away very far. They cook the breakfast porridge, which is done in each barrack. They get food from the central kitchen, pump water for the central kitchen, boil tea and coffee water, etc. Each barrack has about ten women that share these chores.

I myself did this kind of work for a year, it gives you more time to do whatever you want to do. Whatever I wanted to do was teach math classes 8 hours a week, so this kind of schedule was perfect for me. Since the beginning of this month I have a different job, which I like just fine, so far. But I do have a bit of bad luck: bacterial dysentery, the milder form. I rested 2 days and was put on a diet for a week, and I was cured. And now I have my first experience with malaria. On the whole, health conditions are not the greatest, but I’ll touch on that subject a bit later.

PARE- PARE/ Wiebe Seth Paul: After I came to Pare-Pare from Kampili, I weeded the vegetable gardens and did other related chores for several months. So now and then we had visitors, and our commandant would take them through this garden. The foreman of the garden crew was often complimented on the way he cared for the garden. Thanks to his knowledge of the mission from the isle of Flores. Part of the garden was used to grow medicinal herbs, and I have seen how effective these herbs are in the treatment of difficult physical problems. One example that was permanently engraved in my mind, was the treatment of Mr. Sackman who had a bad case of asthma. I often watched him sitting in a chair gasping for air, and I thought he’s not going to live till tomorrow, were it not for the leaves of the ketjubung (recinus) plant, he would not have seen the end of the war. Many kudos go to Mr. Baden whose knowledge of herbs helped Mr. Sackman survive the war.

MAKASSAR/Booy: 5/1/44. And here we are in May. The weather is beautiful for an allied offensive. If they won’t do it in Europe, we’ll have to wait another year. We are now approaching the eastern monsoons, the best time for an offensive here.

5/2.It was party time yesterday evening, a party of sadism, to wit. One of the Indo boys had stolen a few films from Head Quarters and wanted to sell them. The theft was finally discovered three weeks later, and the Gestapo took the natives who had seen the films into our camp to finger the culprits. I don’t know yet if there had been one or five Americans involved but Yoshida took advantage of the situation and had all the Americans fall in. The 32 men, who had volunteered to sell papers 2 weeks ago, were being punished. From 10 to 45 lashes were handed out per person. It is not understood why there was such a difference in punishment. While they’re beating the POWs they roar like animals and seem to get into a trance so that they lose track of what they’re doing. Mr. Fisher the commander of the Americans first got 10 lashes and 15 more later. All these people that were beaten work like usual today. It won’t be pretty what they will do with the Indo. They will probably make an example of him. Thefts are a major problem; they even steal from each other in this camp.

I learned from an old newspaper that our first commandant Lt. Col. Gortmans was beheaded together with 2 Ambonese on the 6^th of April. May they rest in peace. Another 11 persons, Wansveen and his wife, and Mrs. Gortmans among them, received sentences from 4 to 11 years in prison.

5/3 Indeed, 5 people have been locked up, Koster and 4 Americans. Two natives fingered the Americans. They had sold cigarette paper in the new camp. A Chinese man pointed Koster out as the one who had sold him the films. All the money had to be turned in yesterday evening, and sugar and tobacco will be bought with that money. Anyone who is caught with cash will get 30 lashes.

5/4 Yesterday at 6 PM the whole camp had to fall in to witness the beatings of the 5 Americans. There were 8 Japs present and all the Americans were beaten at the same time, 50 to 75 lashes.

They had already received 50 lashes yesterday, so this was worse. Two of them fainted and were brought to with about 30 buckets of water. Then they were treated to a punitive sermon and let go.

This morning Yoshida came with us to buy sugar and tobacco. Each of us received 1½ ball of brown sugar, 6 rolls of tobacco, and soap. It has also been decided that each crew boss will receive 3 cents a man a day. They may do with it what they want. At first buying sugar and tobacco was done secretly, but now it is allowed. The odd thing is that, whenever something bad happens in the camp, it is followed up by something that is of benefit to us. We live in strange times.

5/7 A lot has happened. Two days ago in the afternoon a conscript Army soldier, van Bommel, died of dysentery. Yesterday morning he was interred.

Yosh was under the influence, he had heard that coffee was bought with the 3 cents. He said that the money is for fruit only. Of course this was not explained when this new rule started. The boss of the crew that bought the coffee, Engineer Tarenskeen, received 30 lashes. Smith, my roommate also was beaten for the same offense. He is commander of the new work crew in the new camp. If I had not been ill, I would have, in all probability, received the same treatment. The beatings are awful these days.

My arm is doing well; the wound has all but healed, so I will probably go back to the camp in a few days.

5/13 I have been out of the hospital since two days ago. I don’t go outside yet, but I am working in the work shed, where 15 others are busy. I spent more than 3 months in the hospital, which is more than enough. I first was not looking forward to going back to the camp, but now that I am here, I like it better than the hospital.

5/15 Yesterday morning the Englishman Holborn was buried.

We received a new set of clothes, a shirt, and a pair of shorts of white linen. The tailors make these clothes; about 15 of them work until 9 PM. We paid them 1 guilder and 20 cents. The officers have 2 pockets on their shirts and the sleeves are longer too, by 5 centimeters. They paid 1 guilder more than we did. We are not allowed to wear these sets, unless dignitaries come to visit.

It became known that we probably will move into the new camp on Saturday, the 20^th. Now that we know the date they’ll probably change it.

5/20 The day before yesterday an Army soldier, Meyer, was buried. He owned a large bus company on this isle, Cetram was the name of the company. He is the 52^nd to die together with those who died on the “Op ten Noort” and those that died in Pomala.

We receive a lot of letters of late, even a letter from Siam (Thailand) from an Englishman who left for an unknown destination with 1,000 others. The Dutch seem to be in Nagasaki. The women’s camp received notes from there. There are also notes from Menado.

We received soap today, and the captain and Yosh went into town with the car to get sugar and tobacco.

The new camp is coming along just fine. They installed the electricity conduits, 3 lamps of 8 watts per barrack of 80 men. There will be 7 water faucets for 1,400 men, and 13 for the about 25 men of the guard. The 7 faucets include 2 for the waiting room, 3 in the kitchen and 1 or 2 inside the hospital. There will be no separate faucets for drinking water.

The newest way to light a cigarette is to use the reflectors of flashlights. It really works. You stick the cigarette through the center where the sun reflects a circle and it catches fire. Our bugler, Kloer, was the inventor by accident, he poked his pinky through the hole, while standing in the sun, and almost got burned. We now have access to a new lighter. Flint stones are scarce and matches are forbidden.

5/29. There was a holiday on the 27^th. The Japs celebrated a decisive naval battle against the Russians in 1905. The food was a bit better than usual.

Today is the 2^nd Whitsuntide day. In Holland we would take a pleasant walk through the woods to the Caroline farm, or somewhere else. A real great way to pass the time is to remember the good old; it is a wonderful pastime. You already know each other’s stories, but it always gives great satisfaction to talk about it. The evening hours fly by this way. Memories are the most treasured possessions someone can have; no one can take them away.

Sailor Van Zeyl died of TB on the 25^th. Fortunately there are none that are seriously ill at this time.

KAMPILI/Chabot: 6/3/1944. Infected mouths, a form of tropical thrush, point to a vitamin deficiency. And a year ago it reached epidemic proportions. It may be unimportant, but this bothers me the most. Usually this disease is followed by an epidemic of dropsy; the symptoms are swollen legs and a scary increase in weight. These patients were put on a diet without salt and were weighed every day. This disease disappeared but was replaced by the start of beriberi. Patients have no feelings in the legs, the tips of their fingers, and even part of the body. In more severe cases the patient can not walk anymore. For several weeks now the surrounding skin of the rice grain has been brought into our camp. This part of the rice grain has always been used as pig fodder. It is put in the porridge and bread for the beriberi patients, and hopes are high for a speedy recovery.

For a week now, we get 2, 4 and even 8 bananas a day, when it used to be only 1 or 2 a week and those were about 5 centimeter long. They were very green when they were bought, so they were buried in the ground to ripen.

Right now there are 3 seriously ill patients in the hospital, 2 of them can die at any moment, but these are extraordinary cases. A short while ago several Japanese doctors came to look at them.

On the evening before Whitsuntide we were going to have a cabaret evening, but it was canceled. There is another reason why the camp is not in the mood for a fun evening: 3 Americans and 2 Dutch women have been gone for 5 weeks. The Kempetai took them to Makassar. This is really bad.

Today more sugar arrived in 8 sacks, about 2 mugs per person. We used to get 20 or 30 sacks in the beginning of the month. Sugar is our mainstay. This is our trade medium, and measure of worth. One piece of clothing is measured against 2 oatmeal cans of sugar, which is equal to 3 rolls of tobacco. Many of us sold their watches and pieces of jewelry to the commandant in exchange for sugar, which means that anyone can trade something of value for sugar. Alas, of late these bags of sugar have been subtracted from the camp sugar, so the seamstresses pay for this sugar. It has therefore become reprehensible to sell a watch to the commandant; it is an antisocial deed.

Voskuil: Sunday, June 4, 1944. Jamadji had not exaggerated when he told Carry van Lochem that 9 people would inspect the ledgers. That was 10 days ago, and during those days the whole office had been turned upside down to hang curtains and to fill ledgers with numbers. The just finished books were considered to be passe and all the information is put in new books. Joustra had canceled all appointments because her days were filled, even without appointments.

Starting on the 1^st of June Jamadji had said that the accountants would come tomorrow. Each time we realized that he had kidded us. Or did he really mean it, and they didn’t come? Yesterday the ledgers were ready and were put in the front room. We understood that if they didn’t come today that he had fooled himself. The curtains were hung at 8 AM, but the accountants didn’t show up until 4 PM. There weren’t 9, but 8 plus a very skinny dachshund. There were not enough chairs for this invasion, so some of them stood all that time.

Joustra had to show the ledgers and a shortage of 50 guilders was discovered. “No way,” said Joustra, convinced that everything was in order. She figured some more and came up with a shortage of 30 guilders. “No way,” she said again, some more figuring, and this time everything jibed. The accountants didn’t understand vouchers they wanted an explanation. “No way,” Joustra said, “vouchers are your own explanations”. Carry was called in to give further information about the water buffaloes: June 1, 6 animals for 186 guilders. It is now the 4^th of June. Where are the four buffaloes that had not been eaten? “In the meadow,” said Joustra and Carry.

They had to be pointed out. Joustra and Carry leaned out of the window. Good grief, where are those; they always roam in front of the office. Couldn’t they understand that they had to fall in when we have so many Japs here to inspect our ledgers? The piles the cattle left behind are to the left and to the right, but that doesn’t count. Now that the buffaloes are nowhere to be seen they seem to be convinced that a fraud is being committed. Halfway through the inspection they decide to take a walk, to the pig sties of course. Every Jap visitor expresses an interest in the pigs. During the walk half of them changed their mind and returned to the office, took the dachshund and left for Makassar. When the rest returned they seemed to have lost interest in the books, and didn’t ask about the buffaloes either. Only one of them returned to the front room and asked in part German, part Malay a few things, put his stamp on the books and joined the others in the car and left.

Seth Paul: The eastern dry period has started. The fields are too hard to hoe. First the wild grass needs to be chopped off to the ground, then the ground needs to be turned to expose the root system, which needs to be removed before anything can be planted. Your hands bleed, and under the nails it starts to bleed too when you pull up the roots. The sharp grass stubble pierce the soles of your feet, even although your feet are callused. Then you plant the cassava. The slender stalks are cut in 10-inch pieces and put into the ground at specific distances.

Then we empty the sewers of human waste and pig waste and fertilize the newly planted cassava.

Lindeboom: In the beginning the bottom of many buckets rusted out or simply rotted away. The reverend Spreeuwenberg, servant of the word of God, taught me how to use a saw and cut a wooden bottom at an angle, which would fit into the bottom of the bucket. First a series of holes were made in the bottom edge of the bucket with a home made punch. Then the wooden bottom, which was cut slightly larger, is inserted in such a way that very few nails are needed. “If you leave the bucket filled with water for a day or so, the wood will swell so that it won’t leak,” said the reverend.

When I needed to repair the bottom of my garbage can in 1986, these lessons were applied. I also remembered how to split bamboo and use that to weave a board.

We made coffins that way too, first we used 6 regular boards, nails, a drill, a saw, and a plane. When we didn’t have access to wood anymore, we fashioned the bottom of the coffin out of bamboo boards. And when we ran out of nails and screws we made pegs of very hard wood and hammered them into pre-drilled holes. And later than that, when we didn’t have any wood anymore, we made the coffins of woven split bamboo.

Thinking of bamboo, I am reminded of Mrs. Krol. She had a talent for technical solutions. She would make a real working pump from bamboo, a stick and a plunger. If one of these pumps stopped working they called on her and we even made a song about it: “Oh, Mrs Krol, the pump is mad, it acts so odd, because the bamboo leaks.” (Sorry, I couldn’t get it to rhyme. OY)

Maurenbrecher-Brain: Many nuns in blue worked the vegetable field. It was a large plot where seeds were planted, hoed, and watered. Everything was done manually. The harvest went to the kitchen for sajur to be eaten with rice. Our commandant was so proud of our work that he promised a carload of dignitaries that he would send them a truck full of these veggies. Sure enough, we were deeply offended when a load of vegetables was carried off to the Japs. After a serious talk with Mrs. Joustra he promised not to do this again. No one who worked in that garden wanted to work that hard for a bunch of Japs. He kept his promise. Kangkong, an Oriental green vegetable, could also be harvested. A rice field was also created, but how! Walking backwards, a skinny water buffalo pulled a plow, while another buffalo kept the other one on a straight path. All that was being done under a hot tropical sun. I don’t remember if we ever had a rice harvest.

Seth Paul: The commandant brought a badminton game. Whenever you played with him you had to let him win, because he was a sore loser. Nevertheless he wanted a match, and my partner, Maudy Hooff, and I won the men’s double. We received a cup of sugar and a bar of soap; rations for a whole week. This was the first in a series that I would win later on. Leftover food from Makassar was supplied regularly to make slop for the pigs. These pigs were sold to the Army, and the money would be used to buy rice, sugar, and other necessities for the camp members. You would stand up to your knees in that garbage when it was unloaded from the trucks. Well, it wasn’t all garbage; sometimes we would find bacon strips that we didn’t want the pigs to have. Those animals were not really cannibals, were they? We washed the bacon first, then we would fry it, delicious. We once found a dead dog. Liver fried in bacon fat was also excellent.

Voskuil: June 7, 1944. The commandant had left for Makassar. Letters came in the afternoon: 345 from Pare-Pare and Java, 5 from Burma and Ottawa. The last one had a stamp saying that the censor passed it.

Maria Hofker received a bale of fabric and a sack of sugar for the painting.

June 8 Three small, trembling boys stood in front of the office, the oldest was 8, the youngest 3. They had stolen cassava from the garden and were caught by the commandant. They have to wait by the office, sure enough; there he comes on his bike. The boys have to enter the office and the oldest one has to get the tool he used to dig out the cassava root with. When the boy returns the commandant has a hard time to keep a straight face. The blade is not bigger than a big spoon, and the handle is nothing more than a crooked stick, not longer than 30 centimeters. This was a real hoe that could be used by a three-year-old. They have to stand at attention, which they do, while trembling and crying. “Tida boleh jat.” (tidah boleh is Malay for ‘may not’, ‘jat’ is a Dutch word for steal. OY), the commandant said. He is getting lessons in the Dutch language from a few ladies, and is applying the word ‘jat’ properly. He taps them with a ruler on their forehead. “Legs straight.” He says and taps the legs with the ruler, “Hands next to your body.” Tap. Then he lifts the improvised hoe as if he is going to smash their brains in, but stops at the last second. All this increases the trembling of the boys. Then Daisy is told to get a glass of water, and with an Oriental coloring stick he draws a zero on the foreheads of the boys. They are not allowed to wash them off, he threatened, and crying and trembling they take off for the barracks, very much relieved.

June 9: When the commandant came home from Makassar, he took a bath. Towels around his loins, a thick fat back above the towel, small slanted eyes, which seem even smaller without his glasses. This is the first time that we see him wear high wooden Japanese sandals. His large toes are kept in place by a strap. When we burst out laughing he gives us a friendly, happy smile.

We, who were ensured of careless, prim and proper existence, certain of retiring to a villa, and being certain of our rank and position in society, are now forced to live a life of adventure. We live in barracks and are much poorer that the poorest native. We eat rice, cassava, and red grass, and we are hungry. We beg when garments are being issued, for our clothes fall apart because of heavy perspiration. We don’t know anything about our husbands or where they are, be it in Burma or Japan, or even if we will ever see them again. Only God knows. We have hunger edemas, suffer from dizziness and beriberi, and more. We act like hyenas when we see a larger piece of meat on someone else’s plate than the meat on ours. When we see someone come through the barrack with a plate of food, we suspiciously look at the food before we look at the person. And then we think that we will be ready for a new and better society when freedom is at hand.

June 13 The news is overwhelming, peace seems to be closer than ever. Will this existence ever look to us like a stage play in which all of us had a role? Will we ever have the feeling that the raw truth is in the peace that surely awaits us? We can continue with God’s help, so be it.

This morning a car, which had been rebuilt into a truck, brought a load of fabrics for the sewing room. When the car was ready to leave it wouldn’t start and Jamadji called: “Njonja, njonja!” (Madam, madam. OY), and Daisy and I pushed. It was as if the car felt sorry for us, because it started in no time.

At 9 PM we saw a magnificent meteor streak across the sky.

June 14 The ladies who played basket ball were presented with 30 sets of clothes by the commandant. The sets had been hastily put together by the sewing room. The basket team had to fall in at 5.30 PM, there were 38 ladies, so 8 of them were promised that their sets would still be coming. If the sewing room had known that these clothes were supposed to be for ladies they would have made the seats roomier, the pants would fit smaller hips. These sets of clothing caused a lot of disagreements.

The commandant left for Makassar at 8 AM, and at 11 AM the infamous sport car drove up with 2 Japs. They asked for Jamadji, then for no. 2. They drove the car under a roof, but stayed in the car. After an exchange of words with no. 2, they took off in a hurry and left a cloud of dust in their wake. The whole congregation was in an uproar because an order had come down to turn in all the flour, the mortars, the flour tampers, etc. Cooking for yourself remains a no-no.

June 15 A young Jap woman arrived to inspect the books, she drove off soon after. Could this woman have done what those eight men could not do?

June 18. The Gestapo sports car arrived with Saartje Seth Paul, Bea de Graaff, and Joop Banck. The men asked questions of Daisy Klaus, Barendien van Es, and Grace Pesik. When one of the men asked Joustra to call njonja Van Es, after having interrogated Daisy, Joustra immediately said: “She is ill and cannot come.” He then asked: “Berangkali dia bisa datang sebantar?” (Can she come for just a minute? TS). It is the one with curls, and he gave a friendly smile. The ladies that had returned told us later that he was the worst one.

We have to get Van Es and also Pesik. Barendien shows up with a feverish, inflamed face, a robe over her pajamas, and walking slowly. This is a touchy situation, especially since Jamadji is not in the camp. We didn’t see Daisy after the interrogation, but we thought that we would see her and find out what this is all about. But there she is, with hastily gathered clothing and red eyes;, she has to go to Makassar. She can take a few puffs of her cigarette, because the typical Japanese “Oy” is heard, and Daisy steps forward with Joustra. Curlyhead laughingly said: “We will take her to Makassar for a little while,” pointing to Klaus. Joustra said politely, but with certain urgency: “Lebih baik dia tingal di sini.” (It’s better for her to stay here. TS) He retorted: “Tida, dia lekas kembali.” (No she will return soon. TS) Joustra asked: “Berapa lama dia musti tingal di sana?” (How long must she stay? TS). “Itu saja tida bisa bilang.” (I can’t say. TS) he said. Then we think of the other ladies who also were going to stay a little while, when, in reality, they stayed anywhere from 5 to 7 weeks, and one of them never came back.

Daisy sat next to Curly and the other two were in the back. They disappeared in a cloud of dust. In the meantime Barendien and Grace returned to the barracks. They were asked if Klaus had hidden any money, but since they knew nothing about Klaus they were released.

At 5 PM the commandant called on Els Trip to take over the duties in his house until Klaus would return.

The sewing room gets another 20 machines.

Stolk: Maybe this is a good place to mention the book of Darlene Deibler, “Evidence not Seen”, which she wrote in 1988. She wrote at length about the time she spent with the Kempetai. She claimed that an informant told the Japs that the Seth Pauls had hidden a large amount of money, which their son, Pim, does not agree with.

Seth Paul: The truth is not the same. When we were in Malino my mother Saartje, and her sister took off one beautiful day, and walked towards Benteng Tinggi, the home of American and British missionaries. Wiesje Kandou, who stayed there, wrote about this visit in her diary. Somehow the Japs got hold of the diary and connected the text with a secret messenger who worked for Lt. De Jong, a guerrilla fighter.

The cruel interrogation had nothing to do with the supposedly hidden cache. After days of torture and interrogation the Japs told Saartje that the group of Lt. De Jong was history. She angrily left the place of interrogation and beatings and went outside to get a breath of fresh air. The guards, who were flabbergasted, left her alone and waited calmly until she returned to her cell on her own. Several victims had written their names in blood on the wall of the cell. Bea remembers one of the men, Ledoux, a family man who was executed. They didn’t want to talk about how much they had been tortured. When she was back, our camp commandant felt sympathy for her. She had lost a lot of weight, and he didn’t want her to do any work. He wanted her to recover from the misery she endured, but my mother was not one to loll around all day. She regained her place with the garden crew.

Voskuil: June 20, 1944. The commandant entered the office and told Joustra something she didn’t understand. She grabbed a Japanese ink stick (sumi. OY), did he mean this? No, he grinned, not that either. Then a pencil, no, not that. He went to his room and appeared with a paper in which tennis rackets had been wrapped. Yes indeed, two rackets had arrived and the sports leader had them in her possession already. He asked: “Sekarang senang?” (Are you happy now? TS). Joustra answered: “There are only two balls.”

Stolk: The attitude of the commandant was entirely dependent on how the war went. If it went well for the Japs, he would be in a good mood, if it went bad he would be bad. We mustn’t think about the punishment and beatings that are in store for us.

Voskuil: June 26, 1944. Last evening Jamadji summoned Tine Klay. Little did she and we know that she would be fired as head of the garden crew. It all started like this: even although the reverend was ill, Jamadji had heard about a sermon, even although he had not given his consent. Joustra assumed that it was all right and did not ask him permission. He heard that Tine preached and he told a few kids to get Joustra. They returned telling him that she was asleep. That increased his anger. He roared that she had to come. A courier was sent who woke Joustra, who donned a house coat and ran to the office. He roars from afar, what kind of manners did she have not to come. But Joustra knew how to calm him by explaining that it wasn’t her fault that he had to wait such a long time. She then had to look for Tine Klay who had to see Jamadji with her bible and a sermon. Tine was nowhere to be found, and when Joustra returned he told her that Tine would not be with the garden crew anymore, but would be a nurse in the children’s hospital. He would tell her himself tomorrow.

When Joustra left she met Tine and she informed her of the change. Tine appeared this morning in her nurses uniform with the sermon and a bible, and went to work in the children’s hospital.

The second stir this morning was caused by the fall of Mrs. Valderpoort, the leader of the Ambon group. Jamadji did not accept her in that position anymore, and had told Joustra repeatedly that she needed to be replaced. He asked Joustra who her replacement would be, this way Valderpoort’s fall became a fact. Mrs. Pfeiffer became the official leader of the Ambon group.

June 27. A couple of other ladies were replaced. Van Diejen was moved to the children’s hospital, and Fuhri was placed in the sewing room.

For the first time Jamadji assembled a crew of elderly, weak ladies who had to thin out a plot of vegetables that was located outside the barbed wire fence. He ordered that each barrack had to gather their oldest women. He was waiting for them at the vegetable plot. The old ladies made the required bow and were ready to start when he said: “Pulang!” (go home). They thought that they had not understood him since they had not done anything yet, and bowed again, and this time he repeated: “Pulang!” with a louder voice. This time they knew that they had heard right and mumbled: “Terima kasi,” (thank you), bowed again and went back to the barracks. They laughed that they were discharged for the service.

The milkman didn’t fare too well yesterday when he brought milk for the ill. The milk had a blue appearance and the commandant threw it over the head of the milkman, he then got a few hard licks with the bottle and threatened to put him on a tree stump if the milk didn’t improve. The milkman disappeared bowing profusely with a very wet head.

Wednesday, June 28.This morning Van Diejen and Fuhri showed up to ask Joustra if there was any truth in the fact that they would be replaced. They themselves had not heard anything. They wanted to do the honorable thing and submit their resignation to the commandant. Would Joustra tell this to the commandant.

Dduring the day Joustra mentions this to Jamadji, when he heard the name of Van Diejen he said: “Call them.”

When she and Fuhri arrived he was in his bedroom. Van Diejen called: “Sir, I am here.” He roared: “Enter!” then: “Take off your hats”. Joustra was summoned The result was that Van Diejen was moved to the children’s hospital and Fuhri to the sewing room. Van Diejen said: “We have always worked our tails off to produce vegetables for the camp.” The commandant answered: “But they don’t like you.” Fuhri retorted brashly: “That is their problem.” Jamadji told Joustra: “She is overworked, she will get more rest in the children’s hospital.” Van Diejen said that if she leaves the garden she will not return, even if he beats her half to death. Jamadji said in an unfriendly way: “Don’t talk that way, it is not allowed, and if I want you to go back to the garden in two months, you will go.”

There they go. They have to clear their small house near the fields and move to another small house close to the camp. The day after tomorrow they will start their new jobs. Mrs. Kloprogge will be their replacement.

Dr Marseille was scolded because he held his head too high when he entered the office of Jamadji.

June 29. Yesterday, in the afternoon, Van Diejen was summoned to Jamadji’s office. He told her to hold the move. He wanted to think things over, he had her interests at heart when he put her in the hospital, but he knew that she could not sit still. That’s why she had to go to the hospital: “Tulung, tulung sadja.” (just to help).She was like a chain, if it would tense up too much it would snap, so the chain had to be relaxed.

Who had told him that she needed rest, maybe the doctor? That was nonsense. Then she repeated that if she went, she wouldn’t return. The commandant said that he would punish her, put her in a cage, or beat her. The commandant said that he had to think it over and told her not to move yet.

The whole camp and Van Diejen and Fuhri awaited the results of the commandant’s thinking.

June 30. Daisy Klaus came back; she had been gone for 13 days.

MAKASSAR/Booy: 6/2/44. We are really moving. Yesterday all wall closets and extra benches were moved, and today all the supports underneath the bed boards went, then the coat racks will be moved. Tomorrow the bed boards will probably go, and we will follow next Sunday. We lost our bungalow and will move to a barrack with 75 men. We always had ideal sleeping quarters.

6/8. We moved 3 days ago. All of us walked back and forth 4 times. The heavy items were moved by truck. We had to make frames for the bed boards in all the barracks.

Yesterday my right hand man, Smith, and 100 men removed the old fencing and everything we built for the last two years in the old camp; 126 men and myself erected the new enclosure. I had formed a core of 8 crews of 4 men each of my own men, and added 12 workers per crew. At 5 PM we had finished he fence, a total of 964 meters. We did a good job. Yoshida used good judgment to let us do our thing. For the last 3 days I worked with 300 men. All the crews were kept inside the camp and did all kinds of jobs.

For the first few months there will be a lot of work to do. The bathrooms are terrible, the floors are made of red bricks without cement in between them, just like the floors in the barracks.

Yesterday a few pigs were slaughtered, and today the food was very good: rice with mung beans and bacon. The pig farmers, that’s what we call them, they live in our barrack. This morning they slaughtered another 3 pigs for the Japs. They get to keep the heads, liver, etc. They saw to it that we had a delicious meal. Being in this barrack is OK, we’ll see how it will go in the future.

6/10. What we have waited for 2 ½ years has finally happened, the invasion in Europe. The Japs themselves admitted it. It was an event of immense proportions, 10,000 planes with parachutists, and troops that occupied Le Bourget on June the 1^st. Everyone heaves a sigh of relief and the bets are on again. Many think that it will be all over and done with in 3 months. What the “Pietersens” will do here is a big question. They will probably wait to see what will happen. The question is now: will the Americans annihilate the Japs entirely or will they look for a compromise? The future will tell. I think that the Japs would want to opt for the easy way out, but maybe that’s wishful thinking on my part. The Japs admitted that Rome was evacuated by the Germans.

6/16. There is an awful lot of work to do. Right now we’re building a new TB ward. We have a large work area, and as long as it doesn’t rain we can do it. There are now 179 hospital patients instead of 135 during the time that I was there. There is a lot of dysentery going around now. A Dutch sailor died of dysentery yesterday. We had to make a coffin; this was the first death in our new camp. All we had were parts of boards to make the coffin; we tried to put it together as well as we could. We received better lumber, and are making 2 more coffins, just in case.

We know that 400,000 Allied troops landed in Normandy, and that gliders were used to transport 120 men, tanks, and armored vehicles. It must have been dreadful! Rumor has it that 17 landings were made, from Norway to France. It must have been hell for the Dutch and those in other occupied countries. We are anxious for more news. So now and then a Jap will drop something, but the guards won’t say anything.

There is a new person in Makassar, a Japanese civilian who stayed in America for 9 years. He talks to all the crews and promises them everything under the sun, like vacations and other good things. He also comes into the camp and noses around everywhere. We don’t know his name, but the Dutch, the English, and the Americans have given him several aliases, like Mr. Moto and Peter Lorre. He is very secretive, but promises to improve everything. We shall wait to see what will really happen. He promised one man that he would get his old position back if he would inform him of possible rebellions in the camp or plans to escape. He is looking for something that does not exist.

6/22. Yesterday summer started in Europe and with it the biggest Allied invasion in the West. The Japs claimed that they sank several American ships near the island of Saipan and the Mariannes. They get nearer to Tokyo and Berlin.

Camp life is routine. Except for the sick, everyone works outside. The dysentery explosion continues. There are more than 200 patients in the hospital and 200 more are in the barracks. One hundred of us 100, including me, suffer from inflamed lips and a sore tongue. The doctors say that this due to a vitamin deficiency. Medications are scarce. Last week 2 Jap doctor/captains came to visit. They stayed for a relatively long time and listened to all the complaints. The next day they had Yosh tell us that they lacked medications, but they would send seeds. We had to make our own medicines from the plants. Vaseline is made from hard grease, which I provide.

We got more tobacco yesterday, no more rolls, but some kind of bad Toradja tobacco. There is a scarcity of everything and it is very expensive. A bicycle tire that cost 75 cents now sells for 25 guilders. It is high time that this misery should end.

KAMPILI/Voskuil: July 5, 1944. Appelman was given an order of 15.000 drawings of pink and blue flowers. Valderpoort, who had been assigned to the vegetable cleaning crew, would head the team that would be assigned to draw the flowers.

Wehrens: I also worked on the flowers, when I spent months in the hospital because of diarrhea, and the fact that I couldn’t keep any food down. At that time it was difficult for me to walk.

July 26. We received 21 postcards from Java that were dated 29 May; 20 that were sent from here were returned with the message: not known, the KPM office is closed, moved without a forwarding address. Most of them were returned from Batavia.

Van Lochem: There was a group of women that worked in the pigpens. There were a lot of pigs that were fattened up for slaughter, these were sent all over to the Jap messes. We never had any pork. When Japanese inspection teams came we had to scrub the animals clean so that they could be shown off to the Japs. The food for these pigs came from the kitchens of the Jap armed forces in Makassar. We definitely had no food left over; we finished our plates. Every evening a truck would pass our houses on the only road leading into our camp. During the rainy season the road would be a muddy mess and we would walk on bare feet, because our wooden sandals would stick in the mud.

One evening, when we had been in bed for a while, the truck got stuck in front of our houses. The Jap drummed us out of our houses to help him push the truck. He walked around in his sandals, yelling and beating with a stick. He quickly lost his sandals in the mud. Then he would go into someone’s house and get a pair of wooden sandals. The next day everyone had to look for their own wooden sandals in the mud.

That evening we laughed our heads off in the dark. Behind the truck a bunch of women held on while each one of them pushed the back of another woman. The ones that were in the back of the truck were hit by the stick so that Zus van der Goot and I tried to make it to the front row. There were also 2 Japanese cutters who were usually friendly. They told us: “Pulang sadja.” (You can go home). Zus and I hick-upped in between our laughing fits: “Pulang maar sendiri.”(go home yourself). Besides, nobody had the strength to push anymore, because we all laughed so hard. After about 15 minutes it appeared that the truck had run out of gas and that it was the reason why it had stopped. By that time we had come to the end of the road and we could go back to our homes. Of course we had mud reaching to our ankles. The people who lived in the back of the houses were smart and stayed in their beds, so only the ones that slept in the front of the houses had shared this ‘party’.

Seth Paul: Air raid shelters are being built. At first they were trenches, then tree trunks were put on top. No. it was not possible to stand up in the trenches, they weren’t that deep. You had to crawl in and sit down while leaning against the damp walls, which seeped water from the monsoon. Sometimes we swam in the shelters when they were full of water. The real swimming was done in the canal by the entrance into the camp where, at times, the water didn’t flow fast.

Van Breugel: We had a swimming pool, well, it was part of the canal that flowed in front of our camp. We could swim to the bridge, which was leading into our camp. When work was done we were allowed to swim in groups. It was necessary to know how to swim because there was a swift current. A bit further you could see a few native boys giving their water- buffalo a bath. Also, sometimes you could see a few turds flow by from the native village up stream. But that wouldn’t suppress our fun, it all was pure nature.

I was about 24 or 25 years old. Several ladies and girls had been appointed to be lifeguards. There I was, dressed in my oldest duds. I must say that our commandant didn’t have his eyes in his pocket, which was impossible to do any way, having to watch over 1,700 women and children. I think that he knew exactly what each person owned.

One day I was told that the commandant wanted to see me. Even when you knew that you did nothing wrong, you were still scared stiff. OK, you had to go. Standing at attention I bowed deeply: “Tabeh Tuan.” (hello, Sir. OY). The nerves choked me up. With a big grin he held a bathing suit in front of my face. Probably something that had been pilfered out of one of the houses in Makassar. All right, I had to put it on because he wanted to see if the fit was right. There I stood. I must clarify that you don’t have to worry about anything improper on my part if you don’t care for that sort of thing. (Later on I heard that this man belonged to the Navy, and their discipline was very strict. Therefore we lucked out having him as our commandant).

Back to the suit. There was a part Indonesian woman there who cooked and cared for him, and she was there all day long. She was called in and she said: “Come back here, gal, I will keep an eye on things.” It really wasn’t necessary, but who knows. There was nothing going on, that lady was here too. He thought that all this was fun or so, after all, he had been able to get the suit. After I had paraded in front of him a few times he suddenly said with a wide grin: “That’s enough.”

I thanked him and bowed and took off with my loot. It was a nice suit made of an elastic fabric, silver gray with a narrow red/green stripe. Such a nice suit was never given to me in my later life. But I was relieved to be back in my nook, safe and sound in barrack no. 3. Betsy Diedrich was my roomy; she slept in the upper bunk bed next to mine. Betsy slept in the bed over her sister’s, Zus Diedrich, who had two darling kids, Rietje and Anneke. I shall never forget the extra scoop of sugar Zus put over my breakfast porridge in the dining hall. Who knows whether that is the reason that I can write all this, because my portion always disappeared too soon; but then I was part of the hauling crew where I had to lift very heavy gunny sacks.

Voskuil: Saturday, July 8. The infamous sport car finally returned Deibler, Seely, and Kemp. The other ladies, who had returned earlier, had told us that Mrs. Seely looked like a stick, but now that I see her she looks like a thick stick. The three Japs in the car stayed about half an hour and left. Everybody was relieved. The commandant still had not returned from Makassar.

Chabot: New excitement, the three part Indonesian women had returned from Makassar in pretty good shape. They had even had vitamin shots and were not allowed to talk about anything that was connected to their stay in Makassar.

Then came the 3 Americans who had been held in cells for 9 weeks. One of them was in pretty bad shape and had to be hospitalized. The commandant gave the order that these women were to get the best food that was available from the diet kitchen. That is the small kitchen that prepares food for the sick. It was typical of him that he made a big effort to get these women back. The second one, who is under thirty, received word half a year ago that her husband had died in Pare-Pare. Their name was Deibler; they were missionaries who flew to Borneo and New Guinea to spread the word. She didn’t look too good either. Miss Seely seemed to be the healthiest of the group, she was almost 50. She was a typical, strong, unmarried missionary who was a fervent believer. (Christian Science-SP) While she was in Makassar she would sing church psalms for two hours every day, even after they had taken her bible and psalm book. She would also go through the camp and sing about her belief.

Four new barracks have been finished, and we are waiting for the newcomers. New blood will be good for the camp.

Voskuil: July 10, 1944. Daisy Klaus works in the sewing room. Just for a month, but she said that she never wanted to work for the commandant again, because she developed a ‘car complex’ which she acquired after her trip to Makassar, and now she fears any car with visitors that enters the gate.

July 12. The much feared Inooy is going to pay us a visit with two others. We remember him from Malino when he taught many unwilling ladies how to bow in a brutal way. They’ve come to see 3 German nuns who were in our camp to ask why and when they were put in this camp. Where was the ‘anak mas’ (golden child) of the isle of Flores, was he still in his house when they left? Were they nuns from Rome? Which other nuns are from Saumlaki? Did they lie? They answered that they would rather die, than not speak the truth.

When the sisters were allowed to leave the commandant and his visitors went out to look at the new barracks.

We learned to connect the arrival of Inooy with the departure or arrival of other Dutch persons; therefore we anticipate whatever is in the cards for Kampili with great excitement.

July 31. Last night someone else lost her mind. It was Mrs. Jaffray, an American missionary. Actually this was the third night that she behaved strange, but it is much worse this time. At 5.30 AM she walked to barrack no 12. She was totally off her rocker and attacked Mrs. Sleeuw, who had just come from the bathroom with a lamp in her hand. She then entered the barrack and asked for Mrs. Mayer. The way she spoke it was understood to be ‘murder’ and, judging from her exited state of mind, everybody was scared of her. While she walked through the barrack she started to take her clothes off, but was deterred by one of the ladies. Mrs. De Kloe took her to barrack no. 6 where she belonged. She is now put under the care of Miss Seely who will share a separate room of the ‘foreigner’s house’ with her. Miss Seely isn’t getting much rest because Margaret roams the camp restlessly while Miss Seely holds on to her arm. It is a pitiful sight to see the short Miss Seely try to keep up with the long strides of Margaret. It takes all of her will power to try to control Margaret.

The mother of Margaret also is not an easy person to get along with. She is 72, but finds no peace in anything she tries to do. She joined a variety of crews, but not for long. She and Margaret seem to suffer from religious insanity.

Yesterday Joustra had a talk with Margaret and asked her if she still believed in God. Yes, she did. But then she did not have to fear anything. She was not afraid for herself, but for the people in the camp. Why? Now she knows: the whole camp will go up in flames tonight and all children and women will die. Joustra contended that she had said that for three days now, and nothing had happened yet. Then it will happen tonight for sure. Then in utter despair Jaffray said: “Let them pray, let them pray.” Joustra answered calmly: “They are doing that already.” Then: “Do you think that I’m crazy?” looking straight at Mrs. Joustra. “Of course not,” Joustra answered, “you are very sensible, to pray is the only thing that will help us get through these sad times.” She left Margaret in a calmer state of mind.

In the evening Joustra was called to barrack no. 9. It was almost 10 PM when Mrs. Veerman came to get her, she called out in desperation: “Please help, Mrs. Sackman has become unwell!” Joustra calmed her down and told her to return to her own barrack, everything would be OK. In barrack no. 9 she found an exited crowd in front of Mrs. Sackman’s nook. The crowd dispersed when Joustra arrived. Mrs. Sackman was totally disoriented and told Joustra that she wasn’t Mrs. Sackman but a deity and it was awful that people pound rice into flour without having had a selamatan (dinner feast) to appease the Gods. Joustra must see to it that a feast had to be prepared, it must be done, it must! (According to Indonesian customs a ‘selamatan’, usually a dinner, must precede certain occasions, like moving into a new house. No servant will work in a new house until a selamatan (feast) is held. The Gods will have blessed the house. OY) Joustra agreed, but called a doctor just in case. But when the doctor came Fientje was already asleep.

July 14. This morning Joustra approached the commandant about last night’s occurrence. It didn’t seem to be very important, more like a delusion on the part of Fientje, but to satisfy the beliefs of the Indos it might be a good idea to hold a selamatan. “Tida boleh!” he roared promptly, and our visions of a delicious ‘rijsttafel’ of nasi goreng (fried rice) to satisfy native superstitions disappeared. Oh well, there would be no peace made with native superstitions and our stomachs.

July 15. Today everyone must clean out her nook, the commandant said. We were too dirty and that’s why we’re going crazy. Later on he said that a big inspection was expected, so we didn’t clean up to avoid going crazy. The Japs themselves were worried because their place would be inspected too, and 6 blue enameled containers were missing from the inventory. No. 2 was especially worried and asked us to help him look for them, otherwise he would get a beating. After some search similar containers turned up in the Ambon camp and the owner would lend them, for the time being, to help out no. 2. They would be returned after the inspection.

July 16. Yesterday we were shaken up by a new order of the commandant. The vegetable crew had to remove all large mustard plants from in between the barracks and take them to the kitchen. It was understandable that the women were upset, because they had planted them in their own free time to supply their own families with extra greens. Some of them had a nonchalant attitude: ‘oh well, it’s for the camp’, but many of them sneaked out at night and gathered them for their own use.

July 17. This morning three baskets of mustard plants were gathered from in between the barracks, including the children’s garden, and there the children put up quite a bit of resistance.

When I came to the sewing room with the attendance list, I saw that the women were in a party mood. The newly enlarged building was being initiated, and Jamadji would do the honors. He told the head that she had to move her desk to one side of the room where she could oversee everything, instead of having it in the middle of the room. He’s not crazy.

Rumors about the arrival of the newcomers persist. A guard of Jamadji had said that the boat had arrived and the women were already in the police barracks. It always makes the commandant mad when rumors like these become known. Only bad people seem to know it, he said.

This afternoon a bald, bespectacled, friendly looking Jap, who spoke fluent English, arrived in a car. He had a talk with Jamadji who took off on his bike. The bald Jap had Mrs. Duin and Bep Van Waveren summoned and had a friendly chat with them. How was she, and how are her children? His kindness overwhelmed her so, and thinking the worst, she broke out in tears. This was not what the Jap had in mind and he explained that he was a friend of Miss Neuhuis in Makassar, and he promised her that he would inquire about the well being of her friends in the camp. He also wanted to meet with Miss Van der Noorda and Mrs. Marcar. Are they well? He would also go to Pare-Pare and would return to tell the wives how their husbands were doing. Could he see Bep’s children? They were called in. What nice children they are. Finally, everything was OK and he saluted in a friendly way and said: “I’ll see you later.”

July 19. Miss Seely, the caretaker of Margaret, who seems to be getting better, started to act strange this morning. She walked back and forth in barrack no. 6 and barrack no. 5 smiling, she would move her head back and forth, and wave and clap her hands and sing all the while: “The Victory of the Lord is Here.” Everybody looked at her a bit alarmed, but she had a friendly word and a curtsy for everyone. She kept on singing the same song over and over again and finally disappeared to the house she shared with Margaret. A bit later she was called in because Joustra wanted to talk to her. She went arm in arm, holding a bible in her left hand. On the way she said that she was doing well because she was in God’s hands. She didn’t have to worry about anything. He had taken care of her for 25 years and He would keep on doing it. She didn’t have to worry about a thing. Sometimes we think that God’s ways are too slow, and we wish that He’d hurry up, but God cannot be hurried. While she talked there was something in her eyes, which made it inadvisable to refute her. But to meet a kindred soul would make the conversation easier.

July 20. Miss Seely is getting worse. Today she worked in the cassava field and when she saw Jamadji approach she ran towards him, embraced him, knelt at his feet and called out: “Dear commander, the victory of our Lord is here.”

A startled Jamadji said later that he felt like crying. It was therefore understandable that the laughing of some women irritated him. Why did they laugh? Don’t they understand how serious it is when someone loses her mind? He couldn’t understand that they could laugh in a situation like this.

July 21. Jamadji is ill, most likely it is malaria because he called for quinine which was delivered from the hospital right away. He also asked for a thermometer, and when everybody inquires about his health, he jumps on his bike and peddles to the pigpens, returns unexpectedly, and again asks for quinine and a thermometer.

Last night Miss Seely acted like a madman. She banged on the window covers of her house and screamed and yelled like a banshee. This morning she went to the cassava fields saying: “The victory of the Lord is here” to everyone she met.

It has been decided that she should be locked up in the small brick house in the cassava field, because she is so strong that nobody can hold on to her when she goes into a rage. A somber pall falls over the camp.

When the three American ladies returned from Makassar Miss Seely was the fittest. Miss Kemp was hospitalized right away and Mrs. Deibler walked around aimlessly. Not so Miss Seely, she worked like crazy, and did her morning exercises at dawn. She discussed her experiences in Makassar with Tine Klay in the cassava fields during a break, praying, singing psalms, exercising, and saying how great her belief in God was. She would become fanatical, while she talked her hands and feet would be moving continuously, and she sang. But no one had any idea that putting her in charge of Margaret was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Van Diejen moved to house 9b yesterday. In the evening she was summoned by Jamadji who asked her why she had moved so suddenly. She replied that he had told her the last time that he would think about it, but she still was fired as head of the vegetable crew. So she moved, because she had no intention to engage in a game of cat and mouse.

July 24. This day started with the announcement that Jamadji had given Joustra half a day off work for a whole week, which meant no attendance in the morning, no afternoon consultations, and no evening attendance. When the ladies were waiting for Joustra, Jamadji entered and asked each one of them why they had come. He called me in and told me to tell the heads of the barracks that the women were not to come in to see Mrs. Joustra, but to talk to them instead.

I entered quickly to tell Mrs. Joustra, but he followed me and told Joustra the same thing. He wanted her to make a notation of it in the announcement book. When he left the two of us stayed a while; we were impressed with the way he appreciates Joustra.

The situation with Miss Seely is horrible. During the day she stays at the house of Sister Van der Borden, but she doesn’t rest for one minute. She sings, bangs against the walls, and continues to do wild exercises. She climbs on top of window sills and slams so hard against the wooden protection of the windows that they need to be nailed down repeatedly. She is taken to the stone house at night, but that makes her even more unmanageable. The sister said that her behavior would deteriorate for about 6 weeks, but then she would start to get back to normal. In retrospect she always exhibited strange behavior, she used to work without letup and wouldn’t allow herself to rest. In the beginning she would dig large holes for manure all by herself. A coolie, who would be used to this kind of work, couldn’t keep up with her. She would be soaked with perspiration and when someone would mention that her dress would rot away she would respond that God would provide her with another one, so it didn’t matter.

When she returned home from work she would read the bible.

Van Diejen was ordered back to the house in the cassava field with Fuhri. Two nurses who care for Miss Seely, because it is closest to the stone house where Seely is taken to during the night, now occupy the first house. Sien Gerritsen has joined them too.

July 25. Miss Seely was seated on the stoop of a house opposite the first aid clinic and nurse Van der Borden held on tight to one of her hands. Seely saw me approach and greeted me with great enthusiasm: “I am so happy to see you, are you going to take a walk with us? You know the road so well, the road that goes straight to the cassava fields by the police Post. Then I can see the commandant; he is my best friend. I love him so.” When I gave her a puzzled look she told nurse Van der Borden: “You understand,” then to Dr. Goedbloed, “You too,” and to me: “Not you. That’s why I shall read you a piece out of the bible, so you can understand too.” “All right,” I said cheerfully, because I really don’t understand.” And she read: “Love thy enemies, they are the ones who hate thee.” She stopped and asked: “What color are your eyes? Gray, and what color are my eyes?” I said: “Brown.” She said: “Your eyes are gray and mine are brown, but everything is the same.” Jubilant she swung her arms around. Then she was taken to the stone building. They were extra careful on the spot where she managed to escape yesterday. She had run into the rice field and they had a lot of trouble catching her. This afternoon she was given a morphine shot to control her wild manners, she still seemed to be a bit sedated. It behooved them to be alert, they feared the oncoming night when the effects of the morphine would have worn off. Sure enough, during the night she had poked her arms through the barred wooden window, and worked until they got loose. She got them inside and started banging on the door with them. Before she could break the door open, the nurses got reinforcements, and took the wooden bars out of her cage. It took a lot of patience and perseverance, because Miss Seely immediately realized that the bars would be taken away from her. Having done that one of the nurses positioned herself in front of the door to prevent a repeat performance. From her jail Miss Seely gave further advise on what to do if the commandant happened to come by. They should wake her if she was asleep because she wanted to talk to her best friend.

July 28. The ‘best friend’ is acting strangely too. He asked a 6-year old girl, Ineke Nanning who had her birthday, to come to lunch at 12 PM without her mother. Even two years ago in the police barracks in Makassar, Ineke was a little doll. He was very proud of the fact that she didn’t fear her soldier-guard, and that she allowed him to pet her while she would smile at him. That friendship continued and whenever he saw her he would give her a slice of papaya or a banana. For some time now Ineke’s mother had curtailed Ineke’s presence in the office and had kept her away from the commandant.

When the invitation was issued Ineke had lunch with him, but played dumb. He asked her if she wanted to stay with him. “No,” she said and started to cry. Suddenly Jamadji said to Joustra: “I want to adopt her.” Joustra answered politely: “That’s impossible, because she still has parents.” He said: “That is not important, I want to adopt her.” Joustra decided not to say anything else in the hope that he would forget about it. She listened to the wellworn tale that he had known her since she was a little tot.

In the evening Jamadji sent a message to the mother to send Ineke, because he wanted to see her. She told him that the child was already asleep. In the morning he sent another message that Ineke had to eat with him. Again her mother said that she had just eaten and couldn’t eat another thing. Then he sent her a message to let her know that he was very angry. This upset the mother and she asked Joustra for advise if he should persist. He won’t let go of his adoption ideas.

Chabot: The situation (of the mental cases-TS) has made a deep impression on the commandant. His reactions were to give a weeklong holiday for the 600 school children and even the adults got a reprieve from working the land. On the last day of this week there was a picnic for 600 kids and 200 adults, which was very well received by everybody.

Voskuil: There was a yelling wingding against the fat policeman who also is the purveyor for the camp, and a few other natives. The purveyor had cheated the camp and Jamadji read him the riot act. He bellowed in his usual short measured manner and, even if it didn’t concern you, his words sounded like he hit you in the head anyway. This would be worse for the one who this tirade is intended for. He threw a lemonade bottle at the native, and one of the policemen swept the shards up. Later we heard that he was beating up on someone. The purveyor earned something of that nature because he’s a sly one.

While all this was going on Joustra had to write the announcement for tomorrow’s outing. It was no wonder that she could not concentrate on her job.

A group of 750 walked to the dam. It was a successful event. Jamadji had trucks drive back and forth to take those that couldn’t walk very well to the dam too. The children had plenty of sandwiches and the adults had sticky rice.

Jamadji beamed when he was being thanked for the wonderful day. (Talking about unpredictable and fickle behavior.)

Chabot: We walked for an hour and a half along the green fields, which we had planted, to the dam where we swam. A truck carried those who had difficulty walking and drums filled with peanut butter sandwiches. At 1 PM everybody was sated with freedom and returned contentedly inside the gate. It was wonderful to walk some distance. The natives didn’t blink an eye when they saw us.

Monday, July 31 1944 School was held in the dining halls and storage rooms until now, but we now have a real school building. Besides algebra and geometry, I also teach trigonometry, and polity. We got blackboards, and this morning 100 books arrived for the elementary grades. At high school level we still use the books that the children had with them at the beginning of the war.

I need my memory to teach the government science or polity lessons. The commandant intends to get books for this subject. What is worse is the lack of paper; the students received 4 sheets some time ago. Most is written on erased paper, wrapping paper from the sewing room, etc. Under these circumstances the results are fabulous. (I seem to remember that a certain form of math was figured out on a slate with slate pencils under the guidance of Sister Geraldine, who taught math too. Mrs. Van Goor (Ph.D. -OY) gave us an assignment where we had to memorize all the stanzas of our national anthem. We were surprised that we did it. Talking about the good old days. SP)

MAKASSAR/Booy: 7/2/44. We received plenty of sugar lately, if this continues we won’t complain. They even get it from Pare, about 150 kilometers from here.

Right now there’s an awful lot of dysentery and malaria; one patient was admitted to the hospital for observation. The empty barrack in the camp has been made into a hospital. Our hosts seem to be alarmed about this situation. Our 44-year old quartermaster died of dysentery this week.

We have been enormously busy; I can’t remember ever having this much to do. We don’t hear a thing about war anymore. I cannot imagine how all this will end. I’m fed up with this damned war.

7/13. The English, who have been in Mandai for 2 years, returned yesterday. There were a total of 240 men. If one of them fell ill, someone else of the camp replaced him. The ill were all taken back here to recuperate. The airfield has been heavily reinforced; for the last few nights Allied bombers come and go every few hours.

Three days ago we charred a chimpanzee behind our workplace. After the animal was killed he was put in an earthen pot that was covered with a clay lid. Then the pot was put in a fire for 9 hours. When it had cooled down the ape had turned into ashes that delivered 400 gram of powder. Yoshida claims that this powder prevents heart diseases when it is ingested orally. In the city the Japs claim that this powder would render them invincible. This is black magic in its purest form. I have heard of ‘apekool’, and now I really saw it. (apekool, literary translated would mean monkey coal, it is a slang expression for rubbish. OY). I will never forget this bit of ape history. There always seems to be something that we can laugh about.

The Germans are retreating in Europe.

The American chief Edwards died in the hospital 4 days ago.

7/16. Yesterday evening I heard someone play the violin. I have not herd violin music for two years. The player was an Englishman, Kayser, a professional musician. He had made the violin in Mandai of teakwood with a bottom of plywood. The strings were made of very thin steel wire. A few intertwined wires made higher notes, while for the deeper tones more than one wire was used. Of course it wasn’t a Stradivarius, but our ears had not heard good music for such a long time that it sounded very good. One of the pieces he played was the Largo by Handel. It brought back memories of how I used to butcher that piece on the organ at home.

Of course the Japs were not supposed to hear this because it was strictly forbidden to sing or play any kind of musical instrument. A short while ago our barber, ‘Mol’, was caught singing. Yosh heard it and had ‘Mol,’ his English colleague, and all the tailors run double time for two hours. Considering the fact that almost no one has shoes anymore, this was a difficult task.

Yesterday the camp received an electric cigarette lighter. This is a very useful article since flints are hardly available anymore.

7/20. This week the alarm was sounded once at night. The result: 6 new air raid shelters for the ‘gentlemen’.

This afternoon a partial eclipse occurred, about a third of the sun’s right side was covered. We watched the eclipse through smoked up glasses. It was an imposing sight.

7/30. This is the first Sunday in a long time that the whole camp enjoys a free day. When we first came here we had to work half days on Sundays. There are about 125 camp workers a day. They carry rocks and earth to surround the new shelters. Then the newly created holes are filled with sand, and the roads are covered with rubble. Conditions are OK during the dry season, sickness doesn’t occur that much anymore.

I have been reading a lot about astronomy of late. It is like a whole new world opens up. I had no trouble finding the larger constellations, and am trying to find the smaller ones now. Every time I discover something new.

I have also been studying Roman mythology hoping to make a connection between those myths and the stars in the skies like ‘Coma berenice, Cassiopeia, Perseus, Andromeda, and all the other star formations.

I shall look back on the POW days as a very bad physical experience, but mentally this was a very enlightening period, because I had access to so many books. Before the war I had learned to speak English, but I learned to be so much more fluent because of the camaraderie between us, the Americans, and the English. It makes no difference anymore if I speak Dutch, Malay, or English. Those are some of the things I’ve learned in this camp. It is not easy to keep things going when a lot of bickering is going on among the different nationalities on one side, and orders must be obeyed from the other side. Seventy-five percent of the work is done clandestinely, not only for the camp, but also for the Japs. The latter are not allowed to have anything made without the say so of Yoshida, which almost never agrees happens. The result is a lot of harping and clandestine work. For 2 ½ years things went all right, and I hope it will continue this way till the end. The lower ranking Japanese are beaten and scolded as much, or even more, than we are.

We don’t hear much about the war anymore. Tojo has stepped down as did 3 ministers.

KAMPILI/Voskuil: August 1, 1944. In a fit of insanity the young wife of the native police commander bashed the head of her 1-year old child against the floor and killed it by crushing the skull. The commandant asked Joustra in bewilderment if this is the month of insanity, all of a sudden there are so many. After having talked to the father, Jamadji asked Joustra if it was all right to bury the child in our cemetery, because the father is a Christian, or isn’t it possible to bury natives in a Dutch cemetery even although the native is a Christian?

Of course the child can be buried here, Joustra said, and she measures the space for the grave. The father will take care of the information for the death certificate.

The Japs see to it that the separation between the natives and the Europeans is strictly enforced. Any contact, no matter how minor, will be dealt with severely. But this death has rescinded those rules between Christian natives and Europeans.

In the afternoon Joustra and the Father were called to the cemetery because the native was a Catholic. Joustra left right away and I followed her a bit later. She didn’t see anyone at the cemetery, but when she approached the fence of the cassava field she noticed the funeral procession and joined the natives at the rear of the procession. I had to look for Jamadji but could not find him. When I came to the pi pens I was told that he was sick in bed. I then went on to the cemetery where Joustra, the Father, and about 25 natives were assembled. The Father first read in Latin, then he proceeded with “Our Father” prayer in Malay. The natives knew exactly when they had to fall in during the prayer. The Father was the first to throw earth on the coffin and the natives proceeded to fill up the grave. With every scoop of earth the young mother wailed: “Kasian, Kasian,” (Have pity, have pity), and after that, “Slamat djalan”. (Have a safe voyage. OY) When the grave was half full she threw a handful of purple flowers into the grave, and when they wanted to tamp the earth down she kept on saying: “Not too hard, not too hard!”

The Father told us later that it was not a fit of insanity that caused the mother to kill her child, but a fit of anger. The appearance was given that she truly mourned her loss. But being the wife of the police commandant she still could be jailed. She now is being guarded as if she were insane in order to avoid jail.

This morning we witnessed a horrible beating. It was awful. This time it was the milkman who was the victim. It was the beginning of the month and he gave his bill to To Ten Boom as usual. She asked Jamadji if she could pay it.

“How did you get this bill?” he asked, and she said that the milkman had given it to her. He bellowed that the bill should be given to him only and to no one else. The milkman was called in and while Jamadji scolded him he noticed a new, clean bandage around the leg of the milkman. “How did you get that?” “From the doctor,” Was the answer. “So you talked with the Europeans!” No he didn’t. Then how did he get it? Taps of a knife handle accompanies the questioning on the milkman’s head, then he gets such a hard kick that he landed on the floor. He had to get up and was lashed by a native policeman with a thin, swishing stick till the milkman screamed out in pain. Dr. Goedbloed was called in and had to explain how this man got his bandage. They saw that he had a wound and bandaged it. Did they talk? Not a word was exchanged. Didn’t she know that the milkman had to be accompanied by a policeman in such a case? They didn’t see a policeman and they quickly treated his wound. That will never happen again, and as punishment the sick will not get anymore milk from the outside, and the milkman will be jailed in Sungguminasa.

Immediately Joustra asked Sister Theodoreta how they could get enough milk.

August 5. Miss Seely received a new purple dress, the color of the garden crew to which she belonged. She was so happy that she became too excited. She bowed repeatedly and waved to everyone. The Sister managed her with great difficulty. Miss Seely still doesn’t work. She said that God gave her a message that she didn’t have to work anymore. It is to be hoped for that not all camp members get a similar message because the commandant would get angry at God.

Margaret has been cured and comes to the hospital for occasional observations.

Presently no rumors are heard. Dr. Feenstra asked the commandant if he could not say anything, because the Europeans couldn’t stand not hearing anything, it drove them crazy. Then he said that he didn’t know anything himself. The only things he heard from the radio were lies, but he had his own thoughts and was curious if they would come true.

Sunday, August 6. The Kempetai made a friendly visit to the camp and wanted to see Seely. Then they called for Hilyard, She was allowed to give a package to her foster mother, who was Japanese and married to Dorfmeyer. They left in their beautiful sports car. They had also asked Dr. Marseille if Seely’s stay in Makassar had caused her mental condition. His answer was: “Yes.” Would the misfortune that had befallen Miss Seely mean that others might be fortunate because the Kempetai would not call on them anymore?

August 7 The reverend is busy making frames for blackboards from the wood of the sewing machine crates. This is an assignment from Joustra and he works hard. At 5 PM Jamadji comes home with 3 visitors. The trunk of their car opens up and guess what? Out come12 blackboards, beautifully black, so black that the driver asked if he could wash the black off his hands after he had unloaded them all. This is a relief for the reverend for now he has to make only 12 more. He paints them with East Indian ink.

In the evening Jamadji hands 20 postcards to Joustra. They’re from Java, most of them from reserve officers, and only 2 from career officers, Abbing and Schuddebeurs.

August 12 Announcement: The commandant has noticed that the children and we are forgetting to bow to him and greet each other. This means: be careful, he’s angry.

It was Mrs. Sackman’s birthday and she gave a party, while also celebrating the pounding of rice. Finally she could satisfy her desire to give a party with rice flour. She asked for, and was given consent, to give a party for her barrack in the church building. She also invited the field workers, the women who pounded the rice, and several other officials. She was finally satisfied that she could give the God of rice what was due him.

Corten: August 25. Father Beltjen’s birthday falls on the 25^th of August. Mia, Pop, Lily, and I congratulated him. The older boys will spend and evening with him when he will talk about films, and related subjects.

A commemorative event is planned for the Queen’s birthday. Living pictures will be shown that will be accompanied by oral recitals. Dr. van Goor has chosen specific persons who resemble historical figures in Dutch history. She has a book that shows portraits of these people. Riet Bikker will represent Charles V, Suze Roele and Tineke Stolk will pose in a scene where Balthazar Gerards shoots William Van Orange, Mia is Queen Wilhelmina, and I am Johan van Oldebarneveld. According to Dr. van Goor the top half of my face resembles his face, the bottom half is covered with a beard. A hunt is on for proper costumes. Over time the contents of suitcases are pretty well known to their owners, and they are willing to lend whatever is needed for the performance. The lack of shoes is literally hidden behind strategically draped fabrics.

Aug. 26 This evening we will rehearse our performance so that everyone knows where and how to stand. The floor of the stage will be marked so that the cast will know their exact positions. Dr. van Goor and a lady from barrack no. 7 will direct. My costume is made of white socks from the nuns, a black plusfours of Mrs. Gravelotte, a dark blue cape from Roelof to cover my shoulders, and a large collar made out of an old white sheet. Sien helps me and she will take care of starch. We took a piece of rope and separated the fibers, combed it; and that is my beard; it even has a wave in it. I have books under one arm and a cane from my mom is in my other hand. And voila: Johan van Oldebarneveld was created. I stand alone on the stage. Others are put behind a frame, like Juul Wehrens, who resembles William III with her slightly crooked nose. She poses from the waist up behind the frame, just like a painting. The abdication of Charles V is a scene where quite a few people share the stage. Suze Roele who is coming down a flight of stairs and Tineke Stolk looking from behind a curtain with a revolver in her hand, depict the assassination of William of Orange. We laughed ourselves silly watching the different facial expressions of ‘William’ when he was hit, before he had the right look.

Love Rijsdijk is Juliana van Stolberg, and Dr. Feenstra is Princess Juliana. It is unbelievable how much everybody resembles the characters; Dr. van Goor must have studied everyone for quite a while. That’s real art!

Aug. 27. Mia, Queen Wilhelmina, is wearing a long sky blue evening gown. What kind of optimist would bring something like that to a camp? Now the search is on for gleaming objects to create a crown. She makes notes of everything that is borrowed and who the lenders are. After school we played with her hair, it has to be a swept up hair do. The stage also is becoming rea;, the rear is covered with dark blue material, which extends to either side of the stage. This is a loan from the sewing room, so all that fabric must be returned. The choir, under the direction of Mrs. Van Veen, is practicing appropriate songs for the different scenes.

Voskuil: August 27. Cards came from Pare-Pare, many sentences were blacked out, but when you held the card up against the light you could see that all birthdays had been covered up. They found out that by eradicating birthday dates the addressee could not know when the card was written. It appears that the Pare-Pare people are allowed to work on the outside again, and that they are not allowed to send wooden sandals to us anymore.

Deep narrow canals are dug from the large canal in front of the camp to the kitchen. It is said that this water is designed to benefit the kitchen. The natives down stream must like this solution for us when they want to water their rice paddies. Yesterday evening the water level in the wells has been measured, it is very low, some of the wells are dry. This week Jamadji ha been in a bad mood for several days, obvious signs of his moods are the sailor hat on his head and a bamboo stick in his hand. In the afternoon he used the stick on poor Theo Berendsen who didn’t deserve it. What happened was that Els Trip had asked Jamadji if a boy, named de Hamer, could go outside the fence to retrieve a buffalo that had escaped. The commandant said: “Hm.” Usually an assent, those who are familiar with his manners know that this would mean ‘yes’. The boy went to catch the animal but had no success and he told the commandant about it who became enraged. “What, have you been outside?” he bellowed, and proceeded to start beating up on Theo who happened to stand around. Joustra who was teaching school came running but was not fast enough for Theo to get several bloody streaks on his legs. (Mrs. Joustra was giving a French class to my class when this happened. We, the students, alerted her to what was happening, and she left right away. Some time before this incident Jamadji also beat me up with a thick pole that had points on it. Weyers was supposed to hold my hands and tried to stop him, but Jamadji did not pay any attention to him. I was also kicked to the ground but got up immediately. I was 15 years old at that time. Finally Mrs. Joustra stopped the beating. My rear end was black, and my dress stuck to the skin with blood. It took 3 months for me to recover. After the war I found out that the muscle tissue in my buttocks had grown into scars. OY). Then the two boys had to stand in front of the Post. They stood there until roll call was finished, more than 3 hours later. When Joustra went to talk with Jamadji he told her that since the boys lived in barracks 11 and 12 those two barracks had to move to barracks no. 3 and 4. Joustra then reminded him that he would also be punishing barracks no. 3 and 4, to which he growled: “Hm.” He then told her to call the boys in. “You can go home now.” Joustra knew that the move was rescinded for the time being.

The following afternoon there was more trouble. While going through the camp Jamadji had discovered a classroom in a storage place between barracks no. 2 and 3 with textbooks and bamboo benches. He was furious that a clandestine class was being conducted outside the regular school building. He ordered that the benches and books be burned in front of the Post. When it didn’t happen fast enough he started to hammer on the bamboo of the storage place. The nuns ran to the field with the books and had to tear them up and throw them into the fire that the Father had started. Those books had been temporarily put in the storage room for safekeeping, but so many books had been delivered, enough for 5 schools, that the loss was very minimal.

The landscaping crew handled the fire, the Father went home and Joustra and Pfeiffer had a long talk with Jamadji. He told them that he had a lot of problems, and the women caused a lot of trouble if they wouldn’t obey the rules. Pfeiffer said that the women did want to listen, but that the orders were often unclear. Jamadji then said that the women were stupid, because he had given explicit orders that school was not to be held in the storage rooms.

Stolk: I can still remember that Mrs. Herdes asked me to take care of a group of preschoolers, instead of working the land. Her two daughters, Ineke and Miep would be doing the same thing. The place was a storage place between barrack no. 5 and 6. I did that for a while. A funny incident happened when two kids said that they were afraid of my eyes. They said that my eyes were creepy. So much for that! (Tineke had deep set eyes. OY).

All this must have happened around the period that the period of bombardments had already started. When the alarm sounded we had to take the kids as quietly as possible to the shelters. Apparently this school was illegal too.

Voskuil: Joustra admitted that she had not followed his order to the letter, and if the commandant thought that she didn’t do her job right, perhaps she should resign. He said that this was a different matter. But she had to remember to follow his orders to the letter in the future. He added that Holland and Nippon were far away, but since they had to work together, it could be done differently. The barbed wire could be moved closer to the barracks and the food could be brought in from outside, is that what we wanted? Weren’t we happy, what else did we want?

Something small would make the women happier, Joustra said, a letter from or to their men, an extra ration of sugar, a party, or a church service.

The commandant then said that he didn’t believe in church services, because the women that went insane did nothing else than talk about God and serving Him. They all suffered from religious insanity. Church services must be stopped, at least for another month, and there was nothing that Joustra could do about it.

August 29 Yesterday at 8 AM the commandant helped no. 2, who had a blanket wrapped around him, to Makassar. A few hours later he returned with a different Jap no. 2. Dr. Goedbloed suspected that he had dysentery. The new Jap, who arrived yesterday at 2 PM, left today at 2 PM. At 5 PM a car drove up and placed luggage in the front room. Then a Jap appeared on foot, and made himself home in the room of no. 2. He is probably here to stay.

All cotton yarn for knitting, except for a 2-month supply of knitting, about 200 dozen skeins, has been picked up and taken to Makassar.

August 31 This day was celebrated in a dignified way. Father Beltjens held a speech, a commemoration, which was built around the text of our national anthem. ‘My shield my hope are Thee, oh God, my Master. I shall build on Thee, don’t ever leave me.’ He spoke glowingly and stressed the importance of physically and mentally rearming oneself.

Then there was a Punch and Judy show, and in the evening a historical presentation by Zus van Goor.

Chabot: The celebration of the Queen’s birthday was different this time than it was last year. Last year we felt that the commandant wanted us to celebrate the day as well as we could. This time he didn’t seem to care, no extra rations or so. We too, were less spontaneous. In the morning speeches were held by the reverend and the Father, but these seemed to be commonplace compared to the performance of this evening, which was staged by our history teacher Dr. van Goor. She portrayed the history of the House of Orange with live persons. It’s odd that Nippon had forbidden church services. For several weeks now, the commandant has forbidden any church services because he believed that people, especially the nuns, were praying too much. Several women had demonstrated that this caused insanity. This order ended when one of the nuns visited ‘Pa’ (his new nickname. TS). He offered her a glass of wine and she accepted it provided that he would allow church services again. He agreed, but no Protestant services. When he refused she put the glass down. In the end he agreed and both of them finished their glasses of rice wine.

Stolk: I can remember the Queen’s birthday very well, especially the preparations, that I participated in. I was then like I am now; my biggest hobby was to be creative. When a call was made for anyone who could use their hands, I was eager to show what I could do. Under the direction of Mrs. Van Goor we built a stage (or was it there already?). Anyway, we stretched a cloth tight over a triangle made of wood, and painted it with the coat of arms of the Royal house. I don’t remember who painted it, all I know was that I helped paint. We used natural coloring agents such turmeric for yellow, and brewed leaves and different herbs for the other colors. It was a lot of fun.

Everywhere groups rehearsed. A ballet group was formed under the direction of Miss O’Keefe. Beautiful dances were performed by the older girls, Toetie, Olly, (there were two Olly’s, Olly Backhoven and Olly van Driest, me. OY), Mia ,Elly, etc. Olga Duyvenee de Wit, who played the organ, provided the music. (She was a white Russian and had been a concert pianist. OY).

All of a sudden I remember that Mrs. Rotti also played the piano beautifully and that I kept in touch with her during that time. I always wanted to learn to play the piano, but I couldn’t even read notes. When she heard about that she taught me how to recognize the notes. She had drawn notes on a wooden board and taught me how to use my hands for different positions on the piano.

Going back to the performance: Jamadji had ordered a lot of mosquito netting and the sewing room made the tutus out of that, or did the girls do that themselves? The boys who donned the tutus and showed off their hairy legs under those ballet skirts performed a very comical ballet. It was a huge success.

But the highlight of the evening was the historical presentation of the ‘tableaux vivants’. Dr. van Goor had some of us personify certain historical figures. I represented Bathazar Gerards at the moment that he shot William the Silent who was represented by Suze Roele. I had to step forward and bend my right knee with a revolver in my right hand aimed at the bottom of the stairs, and needed to freeze in that position while Suze laid down at my feet. I don’t remember what I wore, but it was amazing how much could be done with old rags, curtains, old dresses, etc. During a time where nothing was available anymore the most beautiful costumes were created.

Wehrens: While attending a class of Mrs. van Goor she suddenly blurted out: “You are William III, the Governor.” I didn’t realize what she meant. I had to sit behind an oval portrait frame. It was made of bamboo and wrapped in pink fabric like the fabric of our uniforms. I would be seen from the waist up. The bottom was covered with the same kind of material. The royal dress was made of a child’s black cape, covered by a white towel that was turned under and stuffed with fabric at the front. Small pieces of black cloth made the towel resemble a cape of ermine. Several beautiful glass necklaces of Mrs. Appelman gave the appearance of jewelry that were strategically placed. Mrs. Van Hasselt, who parted my hair in the middle and put waves in my tresses, created the beautiful hairdo. While I was standing there the choir sang a patriotic melody.

My mother had not attended the dress rehearsal, but was approached by several ladies who said: “Did you see Juul, she was beautiful, especially her eyes.”

Van Breugel: By order of the commandant we must stage a show every few weeks. He had a special barrack picked out, and during the performances he would sit in the front row with a broad grin on his face.

I remember how he got a bale of mosquito netting from Makassar for the ballet troupe, and how people were busy creating tutus for the dancers. That was top work.

The girls did their best under capable direction. It was wonderful to watch something like this again. The Paris Opera ballet didn’t compare to these gals.

Then came the anticlimax, after the girls the boys had donned tutus and there they were, floating over the stage, gracious beanstalks who fell gracefully into the arms of another danseur. It was incredibly funny; we didn’t laugh, but screamed and roared with laughter. Something like this was unforgettable.

From a psychological point of view, the decision to make this performance mandatory was a good one. The old and young participated, no one was exempt. And that was the goal.

The older women had rehearsed a minuet, they looked like real Rococo dolls, dancing on the stage, even their costumes were credible. It makes one wonder how they managed to make these costumes when we didn’t have anything but the most necessary clothing. We did have ladies who worked in the sewing room where shorts and shirts, etc. were sewn for the Japs. Those ladies probably added a great deal to the costumes we saw.

Something funny happened on the stage: there was the real queen sitting on her ‘throne’. The front view was fine, she wore a red velvet cape with an ermine edge and a golden crown on her head. But she had to stay on the ‘throne’, because if Her Majesty would get up, she had nothing on in back. I helped her get off stage. The piece of red curtain material would only cover the front, and her rear showed ordinary work clothes and bare legs. This will stay with you: half a queen. It was comical, a queen in front and an internee in back.

Maurenbrecher-Brain: There was a Russian pianist in our camp who had organized a choir that sang all kinds of Russian songs that were arranged in several voice ranges. There were several women who sang very well, sopranos as well as altos. It was wonderful to hear them sing in the dark by the light of flickering oil lamps.

Pare-Pare/Welleman: 8/7/44. After the first few days of having absorbed all the new experiences, I was hospitalized. The hospital was in tiptop shape. A professional nurse oversaw the hospital under leadership of Dr. Goedbloed. After 8 days I started to feel better, but I hardly weighed 60 kilograms. Then I started to eat anything that came my way and after a few months I was back to my own weight of 67 or 68 kilograms, which was normal for my body frame. At first I did not engage in heavy work, this was our choice, to work or not. When there was an opening for the laundry crew that worked for the hospital I started to do the laundry. A bookkeeper for a mining company in Kolaka, Prins, was the crew chief, and an employee of a coconut farm in Tobea, Gerrit Veen, was the no. 2 man. When Veen got tired of the job, Joop Burger from Bali replaced him. This threesome still exists today.

8/8/44. Something entirely new to me was that the guard would supply us with a paper from Makssar so now and then; this way we had some idea of how the war went. In Makassar we only heard bathroom rumors, those could never be verified. Very seldom did a Jap put a paper on the bulletin board. Being here in Pare you had the feeling of a relatively normal life without the enormous pressure we had to endure in Makassar. Most of us started to gain some weight and we definitely felt better. Another good thing was that we would hear something from Kampili from time to time. I never heard anything while I was in Makassar. We were allowed to write a Christmas card once with one sentence and New Year wishes. Soon we were allowed to write, but when we received cards from Kampili there was nothing from my wife. Possibly she sent it to my address in Makassar. After 4 or 5 months I finally received a card from my wife at the beginning of ’44, and again one that was written at the end of ‘43. Shortly thereafter I received a present from my wife, a notebook for bridge games; it made me very happy. Then we were allowed to send homemade wooden sandals to Kampili. The sandals had been made under cover, and the Japanese guard, especially ‘Mietje’ was furious when he found out. The commandant from Kampili, however, was adamant to take them with him, and after a telephone conversation with Makassar he was allowed to take them. Everyone who had participated in making the sandals received 5 lashes, about 150 men.

Not too long ago I received a card from you, my wife thanking me for the sandals, however, I am not sure if you received all 4 pairs. Now it is forbidden to make any more wooden sandals besides the usual items that need to be made for our camp.

When we arrived in the camp we had to put all our money in a camp bank. We did get 5 guilders back right away to buy a few items in the shop. The goal was to share our funds with those in the camp who get only 1 guilder a month for pocket money for as long as our bank has the funds. Until now we have been getting that one guilder, because of the earnings of the harbor crew and other outside crews. However, we get less and less for the money. One roll of tobacco that used to cost 6 or 7 cents now costs 17 cents, a duck egg went up from 2 to 10 cents, etc. During one of the bombardments in Makassar we got a slew of tobacco paper that had been soaked, but we were able to use it after we dried it in the sun. In this camp the paper is so scarce that we are willing to pay 25 cents for it. Before the war it cost a little more than 1 cent. I traded the paper I had for a towel and a decent chair. Compared to many I have quite a few clothes, I wash them often rather than let them get very dirty and then give them a good scrubbing. The soap rations the Jap gives us is very scant, but I do my washing together with the hospital laundry, that way I don’t have to use my soap ration.

Because of the fact that everything is getting more expensive, our food does not improve. We don’t have eggs as often and bananas also are fewer. We don’t see peanuts and mung beans any more and rarely do we eat fish. For breakfast we have fried rice, actually it is rice fried in a bit of coconut oil and mixed with yesterday’s leftover meat. In the afternoon we have rice with two kinds of green vegetables, a meat mix, and hot relish, sambal. In the evening we get rice soup or porridge, and occasionally a repeat of the afternoon’s meal. Sometimes we get a steamed kind of banana with the fried rice, it tastes good. We get coffee in spurts, right now there is none, and we haven’t seen tea for a long time. We ate the refuse of a peanut oil factory for several weeks. It was made into a hot relish and many didn’t care for it, but it is OK to replace the real thing, peanuts. But even that stopped coming.

All in all the food here is better than what we had in Makassar, although the quality has deteriorated since the beginning of the year.

8/10/44. After I was dismissed from the hospital about mid January, I stayed healthy until the end of January when an attack of tonsillitis put me back in the hospital. I was cured a week later but then I got an infected foot and after that the flu. While I write this I am almost healed and, hopefully, I will stay that way.

The climate is not the best here. Nowhere in the Indies have I seen the wind blow like it does here. For months on time a dry eastern wind blows the dust of the mountains down on us.

This evening I am a partner to assistant commissioner Van Beuge (the boss) against commissioner Boterhoven and Ellerbeek in a bridge game. Actually Courtois and I are a team, but he has been in the hospital for weeks with an ugly leg wound. Now I play with different teams wherever they need an extra man. We also played against different block teams, and block no 7, our block, won. In our block we play mostly against the strongest pair Hoogeveen-Hemsing, Pettigrew-Westmacott, Van Beuge-Smith, and then Baay-Bianchi. Lately Van den Broek and Tekelenburg have been my partners, but when Courtois returns I will be his partner again.

A few days ago, while I was ill with the flu, I was moved to a place where the wind didn’t blow as hard. I was first put between Woutje Heyboer and Frans Ohlenroth, but another move put me between Pettigrew and Hoen.

It is almost 7 PM and in about half an hour the patrol will come by, I will chat a bit with my friends before then.

8/12/44. Hoen has been moved and is replaced by Jan Van den Broek. He couldn’t stand the wind either and also came down with the flu. For about ten months Jan has been bothered by his large intestine, a hold over from the dysentery he had in the last camp. Since the bathrooms are about a hundred meters away from the block, it would make it an extra hardship for someone with dysentery. Especially during the monsoon season when the nights are pitch dark and lights are not available.

This afternoon a pig was slaughtered. About 300 pigs are running through the camp, we are allowed to slaughter only 4 pigs a month. We also get 14 water buffaloes a month, they are very skinny and they escape a natural death through the knife of the butcher. All in all, we may be doing better than our relatives in Holland; they probably also don’t have butter, lard, eggs, coffee, tea, tobacco, etc. They would be bothered much more by the change of the 4 seasons than we are. I wonder what our small country, Holland, will look like when the war is over. Maybe it won’t take that long anymore. The Germans have been at it for 5 years now and, surely, they will run out of energy.

We are now having problems with the wells; they’re running dry. There is water for bathing but there’s not enough for the laundry. In the hospital we iron the morning laundry in the afternoons. I bet that you will laugh when you see us ironing but, believe me, we are beginning to be real professionals. We use a bit of starch in our own things, so you can see that we’re almost doing a perfect job. It’s a pity that we can’t get anymore hot water because of the drought.

8/14/44. Yesterday it was Sunday, and as usual it was mattress day. Officially we have to work on Sundays, but we managed to get the mornings off for church services. In the afternoon we clean our cubbyholes. This is accompanied by a lot of noise. We usually finish cleaning everything up in about an hour. At 4 PM the horn is blown for the swimming hour. I really don’t care for swimming and I would rather sit hear reading or playing chess. Besides, something always needs to be repaired. Yesterday I replaced the seat of my shorts. I also have been kept busy repairing my sleeping mats. Except for unusual circumstances I have always been able to mend my own clothes. Gradually you become used to mending everything.

I made a few tobacco pipes, and clothe pins of bamboo and rubber of old tires. In the work place they make buckets, water dippers, mugs, pipes, wooden sandals, earthen pots, chairs, tables, musical instruments, and a whole lot more.

The terrain has been completely fenced in with wood and bamboo. Until a short while ago the back of the camp was completely open except for a wire that was placed on the border of the camp.

A while ago, before I became ill, I went to the harbor a few times to load rice. It is hard work, but I now know how that is supposed to be done.

8/20/44. For the last few days we’ve had more bananas and a few duck eggs added to our usual fare. When we were in Makassar, during the ‘good’ days, we would make a fruit salad 2 or 3 times a week of papaya, banana, and lime-juice. At that time we also got plenty of eggs, even although they were not always very fresh. That has changed quite a bit. It is an experience when eggs are available here, the whole block is busy beating eggs, the noise is earsplitting.

Today, Sunday, we have pork, and the food is relatively good, considering the circumstances. We haven’t had coffee for a week, and we don’t see onions and peanuts at all. Let’s hope that this shortage won’t last too long.

An internment period is disastrous for the elderly. They lost everything, and won’t be able to start anew like we, of the younger generation. There is hope for us to rebuild our lives after the war.

The water supply is getting less and less each day. I wonder how the women in Kampili tackle this problem, I’m sure that they don’t have any running water.

In an hour we will move our mattresses and try to catch some bed bugs. They haven’t bothered me too much.

I feel completely healthy and I hope that I won’t catch anything in the near future.

8/27/44. The reverend Brokken conducts a church service for the young in an empty part of our barrack. Most of the time I hear a sermon on Sundays. The English church holds sermons almost always next to us. I attended a ‘great service’ when 6 men were confirmed. The reverend Gramberg led the service. But seeing how these ‘men of the cloth’ behave in this camp, doesn’t want you to become a faithful church go-er.

Today, for the first time, we have some coffee, and we are also getting more rice. Our breakfast fried rice portions got smaller and smaller.

I have had a busy week, there was a lot of laundry, and Joop Burger is ill. There are 5 dysentery patients, one of them is commissioner Boterhaven de Haan.

It stays very dry and very hot, the grass has died. But I feel good, even although we don’t get that many bananas and no eggs. I don’t have money anymore, because the one guilder a month is worth about a penny and a half. In any case, this is way better than Makassar.

Last week I went swimming in the sea, for a change. It was very nice, but I still prefer the pools in Rala or Palopo.

MAKASSAR/Booy: 8/7/44. The first week of August has gone by. Last week Yoshida was hospitalized to be treated for appendicitis. Several days ago he was operated on successfully.

His replacement is Okimoto, who spent some time in Mandai where he was commandant. He came here when the English returned. He has delusions of grandeur, but behaves himself properly, so far. No one was hit this last week. The night before Yosh went into the hospital an Englishman received 70 lashes because he had not turned his head to the right sufficiently when he entered the gate. A marching group acknowledges the guards, officers, the commandant of the guards, and all the noncoms in the camp with ‘heads right’. (kasida hidari, or migi)

It is inhumanly quiet in the camp, the Japs too breath sighs of relief. Several days ago we had an American guest, who was very much isolated, he stayed with the guards. He had crashed near Ceram, he is a 20 year old corporal. He had a bed with a mattress, mosquito netting, sheets, and large quantities of food from the officer’ mess. He was treated very well. He must have thought that this was a POW paradise. He should have come a few days earlier. Yesterday morning he was taken to Tokyo by plane. He can tell them how well we are being treated here.

I wish that this mess was over and done with, right now it doesn’t look like it.

8/19/44. We write 19 August 2604, according to the Japanese calendar. Time goes by quickly. Yosh is back, he’s taking it easy, and doesn’t seem to be entirely healed.

The Sutadjo said good bye and probably left for Japan. A 2^nd lieutenant is his replacement. He just arrived from Japan, and has never been a Sutadjo before.

It seems to be going well in Europe for the last few weeks. The Allies are approaching Paris; new landings are reported near Cannes and Toulon. The Russians are in Siberia, if this continues, I would give Hitler 3 months. The big question is how Japan would react.

During the last two weeks 3 Englishmen died. One died of a liver ailment, another from dysentery, and the 3^rd from TB. There still are a lot of dysentery cases, my roommate and friend, Cor Smith, was hospitalized this morning with dysentery.

It doesn’t look too good, among other symptoms he has a high fever. There are about 200 patients in the hospital out of 1,419 men, and at least 140 have dysentery. Crews of 300 men are daily camp workers; they dig deep gutters around the camp, improve the roads, put more dirt on the shelters, and make all kinds of improvements.

We added 8 new pig pens, there are 30 new piglets, the whelping continues all the time. The boar must have a busy agenda. A short while ago he got help from a younger boar, who died a soon after he arrived. So now the old boar named Kees has responsibilities for all the families he sires.

8/24/44. The day before yesterday the new Sutadjo made his introduction speech. He’s a 2^nd lieutenant, very young, and doesn’t make a good impression. It is possible that he may work out OK.

Our optometrist, Dr. Van Mingelen, prescribed glasses for me. About every 9 months we can order prescription glasses. I had hoped that I would be using them for reading only, but I will have to use them all the time.

Yosh gave me a brand new set of overalls, this warrants mention that it is an exceptional occasion.

This week a ship with 150 heavily wounded Japs arrived. Many pairs of crutches and coffins are made. In order to scrimp on wood, some of the coffins are made for two bodies.

There are now 2 searchlights in Makassar. One of them is located behind our camp. The bombings continue, last night 14 planes passed over our heads at 3 AM. They flew towards the Southwest. A lot of armed forces are in Makassar and there even is a native militia, the ‘Hei Ho’.

Smith still is in bad condition, he now has malaria too, this can become very dangerous for him.

8/31/44. The date says it all, this is the 3^rd time that this date showed up while being imprisoned, but now I am beginning to believe that this will be the last time.

All of France is practically free; nothing could slow down the speed with which it happened. Not much is happening here. In a few months the monsoons will start and with it the misery in this camp will get worse.

We are making equipment to twist yarn, that is a new department in our camp.

All the good news has upped the morale.

Smith is doing better; he survived the malaria attack.

This week several men were added to the industry. We have a second fireplace with smiths and carpenters. I refused 3 Englishmen. This got me into a spat with the English commandant, Mr. Chub. I have accepted older men without special skills for a long time, but enough is enough.

KAMPILI/Chabot: At the beginning of September our leader announced that a money order from Holland had arrived. It was to be used for all the internees on Celebes. Aside from the unusual fact that this was made public, all kinds of deductions were made. The most important one was that the end of the war must be near. There were indications that showed that this might be true, like the increase of bombardments at night. The constant talk of “Pa” about the end of the war, and that he hoped that we would be content. Then there was the delivery of beautiful fabrics for nice clothes. Today every adult received a roll of tobacco, and running water through hollow tree trunks from the canal into the kitchen at a depth of 9 meters deep was made possible. This was quite an undertaking and it would put a halt to our hauling water to the kitchen and the hospital. Aside from these facts, there are countless rumors, but they don’t make life any easier. Each hour I think about the end. I received a note from Henk about a year ago, he seemed to have the right idea about our camp.

Voskuil: September 2, 1944. Joustra called all the barracks leaders together for an extraordinary meeting. She told us that the commandant had called her into the office shortly after he returned from Makassar. He told her that he had gone to the post office just before it closed, and he heard that a money order from Holland had arrived that was to be used for the internees on Celebes. He couldn’t say what amount was involved, but did say that it was from the Dutch people. Joustra asked him if her country was doing well. He said that the Germans were people too. She then asked him about the surrounding countries. He was being noncommittal when he said: “How do I know, after all, I live in the forest.” But Joustra insisted: “But you read the papers.” To which he answered that he didn’t believe what was printed.

For the last few months only Japanese language papers have come in and no Malay papers. Apparently they are afraid that we might get the chance to read those ‘lies’.

September 4 1944. We have two emotion filled days behind us. On Saturday afternoon Jamadji had ordered the Father and the nuns to fall in at 4 PM in front of the Post. “To say goodbye, because he was leaving for Tokyo.” At a quarter to four Joustra approached him and asked if the lineup would still be held. In Malay he bellowed: “Who said anything about a fall in? It’s only crazy talk!” Joustra laughed with him, as if she thought that it was funny too. Then she called out to the approaching Father that it had been a joke. He began to laugh too and both disappeared. When they were out of sight of Jamadji, Joustra quickly sent a boy to the nuns quarters to let them know that they didn’t need to show up. If Jamadji saw the nuns coming he would be sadistic enough to carry on with the line up.

On Saturday we were told that a high-ranking officer would make a visit on Sunday. A whole clean up program was created to clean, spray, open curtains, and play sport games on command. A bell would sound to start the clean up. The games were played under a burning sun and the leader, Lies de Waart asked if they could stop for a while. Not allowed. But after 15 minutes the order came down that the games would have to stop. They had to wait until the first car appeared and then they could begin playing.

Each barrack was ordered that, if the visitors did their rounds, an eye should be kept on the children so that they would not yell or say hello in Malay (tabeh), or run to a place where they could see the visitors again. He didn’t want that.

At 4 PM that Sunday afternoon he called Joustra, to announce that the visitors were coming and the women had to remember to bow deeply. I didn’t see any clouds of dust that indicated that the visitors were indeed coming and I didn’t understand how he could tell that they were. But I played along and circulated the message. However, nobody came and at 4.45 PM Joustra asked if the players could go home. He said that a bell would ring at 5.30 PM and then everybody could go home. A little before 5.30 PM the no. 2 man had driven out and returned with the message that there would not be any visitors today but tomorrow, and the sewing room had to be open on the day off for the seamstresses.

Monday came and we were told that the visitors would show up after 11 AM. Everything had to be neat and orderly. At 10.45 AM Jamadji called Joustra and she had to tell everybody that it was 11.45 AM. Doors and windows of storage rooms had to be opened, and everything had to be ready for the inspection, just like yesterday. This caused some amusement, because nobody expected the visitors to show up, but at the most unexpected moment, at 1.30 PM, 3 Japs showed up. They and the commandant went by complex A, into the dining hall of barrack no. 7. When the commandant proposed that they cross the glowingly hot terrain to the school, the plan was altered and they visited the sewing room instead. Then they returned to the Post via the first aid station, and the hospital. Coming to the Post they got in their car and drove off. For a day and a half we worked for a visit that didn’t last half an hour.

Then came the order that the rest of the day was free and we were allowed to play games. The order was received with cheers and sighs of relief.

In the evening Jamadji beat up a policeman so badly that he had to have his arm bandaged. The reason was dubious, some say that he allowed his wife to enter the camp, others say that he brought the message that the deliverer of the water buffaloes wanted to be paid in Dutch currency only.

September 5 1944. In the afternoon strong gusts of wind caused most of the lavatories to collapse. They came down with a lot of noise. I happened to be the last one to use the toilet and stepped out from under the bamboo mess, and blew a kiss to the audience in barrack no. 10. Then I realized that the exit was filled with women who watched with amusement. They feared for my well-being when they saw a bucket appear first and then I showed up.

September 8 1944. Several news items are doing the rounds. First a paper was found in the field, that probably had been stuck to the barbed wire and fell off. It proclaimed that Ambon was free. Then, yesterday morning, Jap no. 2 rushed back from Makassar saying that America was coming, poof, paf, poof, and that the markets were closed. Then he said that Jamadji would be back at 6 PM. It didn’t happen, it was 9.30 PM before he returned in a very bad mood. No. 2 also told us that America had been there 3 times that day. We heard the explosions here. Also the Indonesians do not want Japanese currency anymore, that was the reason why the policeman was beaten so badly, because he gave the message to Jamadji.

September 9 1944. The no. 2 Jap left and was replaced by our very own little Jap, who had spent 2 ½ weeks recovering from dysentery.

In the evening Joustra sorted out 200 letters from the POWs in Makassar. In the meantime Jamadji had told Arie den Hond that the women had to pick up their mail at the Post, which resulted in a crowded front office. The commandant took a pile and started to hand out the letters. Long after the last letter had been delivered, women stood around hoping that there still would be something for them. It embarrassed the commandant, and to hide his discomfort he gruffly chased the women away and told them to return to their barracks. Frightened they left.

The rumor about the paper in the field seems to have been fabricated. The field in question had been inundated because the crop was riddled with caterpillars. When the field dried up the crop, which was dry and rustled when it was harvested, sounded like paper, according to Henny Kloprogge. The leader then cautioned Henny not to say it too loud, otherwise they might think that we had found a pamphlet. Thus another rumor was born.

September 12 1944. Jamadji told Joustra that the money order would allow each one of us 46 guilders and 64 cents. This means that Holland sent 1,000 guilders out of private funds.

September 15 1944. Yesterday Jamadji spent all day with the coolies who are working on the water line between the canal and the kitchen.

The blackboards from Makassar aren’t worth the 15 guilders each. The chalk slides off the board. The boards that were made in the camp are just fine.

The women must take an empty bucket to the kitchen where they will fill it with water and take it to the hospital. Whoever fills the bucket from the wells at the complex will get a slap from the commandant.

We heard engine noise in the evening, then anti aircraft fire.

September 18 1944. The people who want to move to a different barrack must say so today. As soon as the lavatories are finished, the new barracks will be ready. This created quite a stir. About three months ago these barracks were built to house an additional 300 people, it now seems that it is not going to happen. (We now know that these were internees from North Celebes. Since the Allies seem to be in close proximity the move was deemed to be too dangerous. TS). The morale of the women went up considerably, also because it had been rumored for some time now that Ambon was free. Is the end really in sight? The bombers fly every night. The coolies are being paid with items instead of Jap money; they won’t accept it anymore. Rumor: the Americans have taken Salajar.

September 20 1944. Joustra, together with Hermie Nanning, is kept busy with the moves to the new barracks. It seems that 69 persons from Malino and 94 from Ambon want to move. The office is like a real estate agency.

September 28 1944. 340 letters arrived from Pare, and 4 from Makassar. The Pare letters are very cheerful, they’re looking forward to see family in Holland. Another writes his German wife that his dad is doing fine but hers does not.

September 29 1944. Jamadji told those who live in the first aid station to move elsewhere because the clinic will be cleaned up. 60 sewing machines are added to the sewing room. In the afternoon 2 Japs came to visit the sewing room and when they left Joustra asked Jamadji if the move from the clinic is still on. Laughing he answered that it was just another joke.

PARE-PARE/Welleman: 9/5/44. About ten days ago, in the afternoon, I went to the harbor to help load a prao ( largenative canoe) with bricks. I put on my shoes for the occasion, but since I had not worn shoes for some time, I came back with a couple of open blisters on my heels. Thank goodness, they didn’t get infected, other than that my heels didn’t bother me. I’ve made it a habit to put my shoes on every night to get used to the feel again.

On Queen’s Day we ate a kind of hash with cassava root, a green vegetable, pork, and lard. After the line up in the evening we had coffee and a rice fritter. It took a long time but now we have plenty of coffee. The quality of the food stays about the same except that we now also get tomatoes and a very sour native fruit (blimbing) to make the food taste better.

Jan Courtois is still in the hospital, but will be released in 1 or 2 days to return to his block. Teun de Rijk also is in the hospital with dysentery. He has been there for 2 weeks and still does not feel well enough to be dismissed.

The mood in the camp is very cheerful, but for a few unpleasant incidents like thefts. There are a few dishonest characters among us, but we haven’t been bothered in our block.

On Sunday evening we had a variety show that lasted a few hours. It was good to laugh again, although a few digs were given that were not appreciated. But just like in Makassar, and in the police barracks in Enrekang, block no. 7 is the black sheep. Nobody knows why.

I will try to buy a few eggs this week, if I eat one every two weeks it is a lot. It is not easy to get them, because there are only special vendors that bring eggs into the camp because they have access to them..

It is still dry as ever, and with the wind blowing, it makes this place a real dust bowl.

9/27/44. I have been in the hospital for 3 weeks with amebic dysentery. I suffered from diarrhea for a week until Sunday, when I was told that I have dysentery. It’s not too bad, the bed and the food are good, and I will be on my feet in no time.

On Saturday I worked outside for a change, we worked on an air raid shelter that had been dug into a hill. A jail sits on top of the hill. In the afternoon we had a tough fried banana for a snack.

There are rumors going around that we will be moved. Nobody knows where. The guard seems to have started this rumor. We’ll have to wait.

During the last ten days everybody has been working hard on the shelter. Black out rules also have been intensified. However, we still have lights in the evenings, and smoking is allowed until 10 PM.

9/29/44. I am getting well, but I won’t be able to rid myself of the amebic misery entirely, because the proper medicines are not available. One of the cures taking of a good laxative. So far this had worked fine.

About 14 days ago the camp received a gift from the Pope, 10,000 guilders. It’s a pity that we can’t buy anything decent with it.

It was a month ago that I ate an egg, but yesterday I had another one, and this morning again with the fried rice. The care and the food in the hospital are OK. The head of the ward is a professional nurse, Krijger, a true Amsterdammer (native of Amsterdam). He can look after himself. Nothing but praise for Dr. Goedbloed, he creates miracles with the available medications.

Dental care is not so simple; we have a Chinese dentist from Makassar who lives here. He cannot fill teeth for the moment. In Makassar we had Dr. Voorzanger, who showed his abilities with a drill that was connected to a treadle sewing machine. He also had a small amount of cement that was brought in clandestinely.

Kees de Moor earned his keep by discovering that several patients were suffering from hookworm disease. A lot of camp members began to get ill, and it was gradually getting worse. Nobody knew what the problem was until Kees came along. There also were several cases of typhoid fever, these people lingered with the disease for a long time, but they eventually got better. Whether these were real typhus cases nobody knew.

MAKASSAR/Booy: 9/13/44. Already it is mid September and much is happening everywhere. The news is good for our side. The Allies are probably in Holland, the radio announced that an attack had taken place on the Albert canal, and by the Siegfried line. In our area Halmahera and Menado are under continuous attack. An attack on the Philippines can be expected any moment.

News from within the camp includes the partial collapse of the work place. We managed to save 2 hospital barracks by bracing them with additional supports. What will happen during the rainy season when the wind blows much harder? We finished our new barrack; we worked on it with 15 men for a week. It is 30 meters long and 6 meters wide. I can guarantee that this barrack is storm proof. The other barracks are shored up with metal wiring in the hope that they will hold. The bamboo, with which these barracks were built, were never watered when they grew. Now the building material is infested with termites. Many bamboo poles have already been pulverized.

Our meat rations used to be 220 kg for 1,400 men per 2 meals, and half that amount for 1 meal. The rations are now 6oo kg. a month, so they found another solution to supplement our diet by sending hearts, bones, lungs, and kidneys to add to the meat rations. It’s better than nothin. Today we had a culinary feast, 3 pigs were slaughtered, so we ate fried rice with pieces of bacon with a cucumber salad and sweet coffee. We don’t know what the occasion is, but we don’t ask questions.

More work was created when we had to plant large gardens. Beatings are still part of our lives. Yesterday Dekker, the man who assigns the crews, got 45 lashes for no reason at all. The captain was very angry but could do nothing.

We never see the new Sutadjo; maybe he’s fishing for a 2^nd star elsewhere. It is never pleasant here, but we intend to make the best of it. Smith is getting better.

9/20/44. The alarm sounded 4 nights in a row, probably scouting parties, because they didn’t drop any bombs here. They stayed away the last 2 nights. Rumor has it that landings were carried out on Palau, the Jap islands, and Halmahera. Attacks are expected on the Philippines and Menado. The alarm should sound more often now.

Yesterday Yoshida left for Pare with two trucks to pick up sugar and tobacco. It is a 150-km. trip, one way. He hasn’t returned yet, maybe he met a few Yanks and will take them back with him.

9/30/44. The alarms still sound almost every night, but no bombs are dropped. Nothing much is happening otherwise. We are still busy improving the air raid shelters for our hosts. We now know that Holland is free and that the Allies have entered Germany at several points. We don’t know what will happen here, I believe that we can look forward to a lot of misery.

KAMPILI/Voskuil: October 2, 1944. There was engine noise at 10 PM and Jamadji immediately ordered that all lights and cigarettes should be extinguished. He took it upon himself to make sure that his orders were followed. He donned a khaki uniform for that purpose. They must have hit the jackpot because we heard countless bombs explode and also anti- aircraft fire. At 12.30 AM Jamadji told the guys in the first aid station that they could go to sleep. It stayed quiet for the rest of the night.

Stolk: I think that it was about this time, when I rested in my upper bunk in the afternoon, that I got an idea to circulate a small paper among the girls of the land crew. You must know that we had not had read anything like new books, papers, magazines, etc. for years. Why couldn’t we do this ourselves and assemble camp news in a small paper to circulate among us? It was pleasant to think about it and I wondered how I should tackle this project. I pinched a nice smooth piece of paper from the sewing room, cut it at right angles, and folded it in half. On the front page I printed something like an editorial piece and asked for help. I needed a few girls to be part of the editorial staff, and a few who could draw. I don’t remember whether our girl’s club existed at this point. The name of the girl’s club was S.O.S, Save Our Spirits. It had to be because the name of the paper was S.O.S. I also don’t remember whether I or someone else, Lies Haar maybe, created the emblem on the front page. It was a drawing of a girl, seen from the side, with a hoe on her shoulder, a member of the land crew. The back page was designated for short stories, poems, etc. At the top of that page I put ‘Varia’ down. Since this was a test paper I made a simple crossword puzzle. The 3^rd page was not printed, but a search was conducted for a writer who could take care of a serial story to fill that page. The back page was for advertisements. I had divided that page into squares, and filled the squares with small drawings and text as examples. The other pages were divided into columns. Just like a real paper. I printed the texts with a pencil. Despite the fact that we had little privacy, I could work out the details in peace. When I showed this sample to the girls in my barrack it became an immediate success. The paper was circulated through the other barracks, it was meant for the girls, but everybody wanted to read it. It stayed out for a long time and was returned like a rag. I soon got a few joint editors, among others Lies Haar and Mia van Diggelen. These two could draw very well and created beautifully illustrated ads with texts that referred to our camp life. Mrs. van Goor, our teacher of the Dutch language, offered to write the serial. I wrote everything in print letters on pieces of smooth wrapping paper. At the end of October the first edition was ready.

Voskuil: October 3, 1944. Today is the day that we collect the cash from the money order from Holland. Jamadji asked for a leather suitcase to get the money in Makassar. Without giving it a second thought, I told him that I had one and proudly showed him my piece of luggage. He promptly asked teasingly: “Don’t you have a nicer one?” I answered that I didn’t know and was ready to regain possession of my little old suitcase, when Jamadji shoved it to the no.2 man and a while later he took it with him in his truck. We wondered if and when we would see him again, because we heard airplane noise and bomb explosions all morning long. We all were excited. When it got dark the no. 2 man returned. The suitcase had been too small for all the Jap currency, and the wads of money were carried loose by no. 2 and deposited on a table in the office. When Joustra was called in, ordinary bank papers worth 73,000 guilders in sealed packs were on the table. These were the usual papers that come in every month for payments of the camp. They can be printed randomly, because they are not signed. This was a great disappointment for the camp members especially since, during a meeting with camp leaders, it was announced that the Vatican had been instrumental in getting the money to us. Jamadji told us that a Jap with connections to the Vatican had seen to it that the transaction was carried out. For many of us this was a downer, but it is a fact that, as long as Holland is occupied, the Dutch cannot send cash anywhere. But if Holland was free it would be considered to be enemy territory for the Japs, and as such a neutral entity such as the International Red Cross or the Vatican can act as the middle man to send cash money. However, the Japst never recognized these organizations.

Each person will get 45 guilders, and the rest, 2,600 guilders, will be rounded out with 800 guilders more from the sewing room funds. This amount will be divided among the foreigners in this camp. Since we have had a shortage of sugar, most of us would have preferred a ball of brown sugar to ease our hunger instead of the 45 guilders in Jap money. (We now know that Pare-Pare received 16 guilders a person.-TS.)

October 6 1944. It seems that events follow one another faster than ever. The sewing room is being expanded at a great pace, and all work crews are being combed for additional seamstresses. Seventy-five women are needed to sew and cut, or sew or cut, or those who have no experience at all but would like to learn to sew.

A second request was circulated: who owns a suitcase that measures 18x45x80 cm. that will keep the money together. Jamadji angrily asked Joustra why the money was not deposited in a suitcase yet because, if something happened, the money could be moved immediately. He seems to be proud that the camp has the money because he said that the cash value was not important, but Joustra had to hold on to it regardless of what would happen. We, the camp members are not impressed. We were happy with the money order from Holland, but the exchange in Jap money was a downer.

Last night heavy bombardments were carried out, probably over Makassar. A lot of trucks continue to drive into the cassava garden and packages are delivered to the adjoining guardhouse. They look like Red Cross articles. The trucks continued on to the dam with similar packages. It is rumored that Jamadji fled the compound during the bombardment, backpack and all. However, this cannot be confirmed.

The day after the last bombardment Jamadji left for Makassar with flowers, ostensibly for the funerals of the victims. We also heard that pamphlets that were dropped last week mentioned the latest bombardment. Whence come these tales ?

October 7 1944. Water buffalo no. 250 has been butchered. A busy day for the Father who slaughtered in the morning and worked on the aqueduct leading to the dysentery ward all day. After he had taken a bath at 6.15 PM, he was called by Jamadji to butcher a pig before the meat spoiled. It had aborted a litter. It was not until 9 PM that his work was done.

Jamadji was aware of the work the Father delivered and expressed his appreciation by saying that the father was no. 1 here. When he had said it he seemed to be embarrassed.

Young children have strange ideas about our society. They think that their world exists of women, children, a doctor, a reverend, a Father, and a Jap. A small boy once called the Father ‘reverend’. Immediately another boy said that it was impossible and corrected him, because a reverend doesn’t wear glasses. The children want to become parish priests because then they can become butchers. They now act out the role of parish priests and try to butcher each other.

October 16 1944. What a day! At noon we heard a Jap airplane and soon after that the sound of a machinegun. Looking up we saw that an American was chasing a Jap. The Jap made a U-turn and disappeared. A short time later we heard airplanes in the distance and the commandant starts to scream that everyone had to go to the shelters or gutters, no one was allowed to stand, everybody had to get down. He had become hysterical. Joustra ran to him. He stood at the front door, wildly swinging his arms. I ran to the bell in front of the Post and rang as hard as I could. Within a short time the field was covered with people running in all directions, then we saw the beautiful, great silver birds of our friends in the sky. We watched, deeply touched and with awe. They continued their flight calmly, without heeding the anti air craft fire that was directed at them.

After 15 minutes calm returned, and when I returned to the Post the commandant, still white as a sheet, told me to call Joustra. When she was located he told her that she had to order everyone to have an early lunch, and then stay within close proximity of the barracks.

A little later it happened: the planes returned and threw out pamphlets. The first one drifted down outside the barbed wire. Nearby stood a policeman, he picked it up and brought it to Jamadji. But many of them fell all over the camp and we had a chance to read them before turning them over to the Japs.

In the afternoon Joustra had a meeting with the leaders and when it was almost over Jamadji entered and reiterated, almost bashfully, what Joustra already had said. We were allowed to read the pamphlets, but had to turn them in afterwards. He continued to tell us that the planes probably were on their way to the Philippines; it also didn’t mean that these planes were American.

October 17 1944. No. 2 has a handful of pamphlets and throws them into a fire underneath a cooking drum in the kitchen. He waits until they’re burned up completely.

Jamdaji, who had left for Makassar early in the day, returned at 11 AM, dejected and tired. He washed his face and called the boys who work for him. Instead of calling them like he usually does, his voice was soft and subdued. It seemed that he was beaten down. What did he hear in Makassar? Even when he coughed it sounded soft, as if he did not want to attract attention.

In the afternoon he assembled all the heads of the kampongs in the neighborhood outside the camp and talked to them. We don’t know what he said, but the puzzled expression on the faces of the natives gives us an idea that they were being instructed to do something they never did before. Jamadji spoke with persuasion.

When it was time for the evening roll call Jamadji called Joustra, the head of the sewing room, Jo Duin, and Dr. Goedbloed. He had a proposal: “I don’t order you to do this, I just ask.” He wants the women’s hospital ward moved to the new sewing room and the sewing room would move into the women’s ward. Dr. Goedbloed protested vehemently, too damp, no bathrooms, no lavatories. Jamadji countered with the nearby well. But it is too low, according to Goedbloed. Jo Duin also protested, and the case is dismissed.

October 18 1944. Letters arrived from Java for a few officers’ wives and merchant marine wives. One of them had not heard from her husband for three years. She thought that he had been on the bottom of the sea a long time ago, because he was on a cargo ship that had been torpedoed near Bandjermasin. She now receives news from a jail in Batavia, now called Jakarta.

October 20, 1944 A motorcycle and sidecar arrived at about 11 AM. We associate this vehicle with the executioner of the Gestapo, so we wait with anticipation. This time we start to relax when we see that this is ‘Slowie’, aka the ‘Lethargic One’, aka the ‘Glove’. A policeman ran after him with a board and ‘Slowie’ writes a few lines with Japanese characters, and the agent runs out to find the commandant. ‘Slowie’ gets back on his motorcycle and rides to the church building where he gets stuck because he can’t turn around. No. 2 arrived on his bike and with his help and the help of a few boys, ‘Slowie’ returns to the Post with such speed that we hope that he won’t hit a child on the way.

When the commandant returns the two of them converse excitedly and when ‘Slowie’ leaves the commandant orders the Reverend to erect a stand on each corner of the camp so that the Dutch flag can be attached to it. When someone asked the Reverend about it, he denied hearing anything about it, although he had heard Bellemee say something about flags. When Bellemee was approached she said that she had just heard about it. She was told that Joustra had suggested to Jamadji that it might be a good idea to erect the Dutch flag at strategic points and Jamadji agreed. Any way, the whole story was not true, and those who got goose pimples when they heard about it, got them for no reason at all.

But this morning, on the 21^st of October, the flag story was seen in a different light. According to Mrs. Pfeiffer, Jamadji had asked her if there was a Dutch flag in the camp. When se said she didn’t know, he told her that one needed to be made, and if she would see to it. Yesterday evening Jamadji asked her why so many people had been talking about the flag. She responded that she had not talked to anyone about it, but thought it might be a good idea if people would know about it.

He told her “no, because people are stupid”.

Since those who are over 16 are allowed to write letters, several women have resorted to not knowing about this rule, and wrote at least 2 pretending that their children could also write. Others took advantage of borrowing names of the nuns who made their names available to them.

This morning 4 Japs entered the cassava field unexpectedly. They had a cup of coffee at the Post and left. Jamadji was in Makassar. They were very polite and saluted before anyone had a chance to bow.

Corten: October 21. The paper is ready! The editorial staff is comprised of the following persons: T. Stolk, S. Roele, M. van Diggelen, T. Corten, and O. van Driest. Tineke had arranged the top of the front page, it shows 2 girls in camp clothes, the one on the left wears a student cap, and the one on the right wears a hat and has a hoe slung over her shoulder. In between the girls the caption reads S.O.S.-paper. When the paper is folded it measures 27 by 35 cm. The next paper will have an extra leaf so that it will have 6 pages. Each edition will contain the news, a puzzle, ads, a steady feature named: “It is whispered that….., and a serial story by Mrs. Van Goor.

This time the front page contains an introduction, a marching song, a request to finish the S.O.S. emblem, and news from beyond the borders, and from the city. Then an article called ‘Varia’ shows a parody put in song, a short story, jokes, a puzzle, and ads. We are still working on the ads, but we’ve written the rest, all done in pencil!

At 10 PM the funs tarts again: bomb after bomb, behind the lavatories. There must be something there, but we don’t know what. (There was a Jap airfield behind our camp that was being bombed repeatedly.-OY)

Voskuil: October 23 1944. Today looks like a repeat of last week. At about 10 AM 10 white birds were seen in the sky, Jamadji bellowed that the alarm should be rung and donned his khaki uniform. And sure enough, shortly thereafter we heard explosions. Jamadji rode on his bike through the camp and returned laughing. He called out: “Joustra salah!” (Joustra is wrong!-OY) She asked him why, and he said laughing: “Today is the 23^rd and at 10 AM they’re holding exercises. How many planes did you see?” Joustra said 11 or 15. There had to be 18, because last week it was announced that this would take place, but I totally forgot about it. When the ‘all clear’ was sounded he noticed that the women did not resume their tasks, and I needed to go around to tell them that it all had been a mistake.

Seth Paul: On the 23^rd of October we saw P38’s for the first time. There were a total of 15 planes that deployed .50 rapid- fire guns. (They were more like small canons. OY) The Lockheed Lightning’s left the airfield burning. The arrival of this kind of airplane meant that the Allies were getting closer because of the short range this kind of airplane has. Our hopes grew. Would the war be over by the end of this year? We’ll never know.

Voskuil: October 24, 1944. The cassava garden crew was almost completely eliminated. The women were placed in the sewing room. Van Diejen and Fuhri were left with 20 women. Jamadji thinks that, with the help of a few coolies, the crew can handle the fields. Mrs. Noors was the only one who could handle the buffalo, she had done this for over a year, and Jamadji saw to it that she got extra eggs because she needed her strength. He now assigned her to the sewing room too.

Corten: October 25. There are quite a few dysentery cases and now we have to catch 100 flies instead of 50. That’s a job for the little ones, although I think that they cheat. When they catch a fly they cut it in pieces, they get more legs that way, and throw it on the pile that is already there.

Of course there’s another bombing raid, this is becoming old hat; but tonight there also is anti aircraft fire.

Voskuil: October 26, 1944. The white cotton knitting yarn that was picked up some time ago, except for a 2 months supply, was replaced with khaki colored cotton. The ladies can start knitting again. When the cotton was picked up the women hoped that we would be freed soon after.

The last few days the sewing room has been in the news. Jamadji wants 125 more women there, and he fleeces all the crews of possible candidates. He picks them from the pan washing crew, the vegetable cleaning crew, out of the fields, etc. It doesn’t help to protest.

Chabot: 10/26/44. Even although there are more reasons to be optimistic, the mood is very low. This is due to the way we live our daily life. The rains still have not arrived, and the heat in the afternoon is sometimes unbearable. A shortage of water also is of great concern; we rinse the laundry at a place that takes ten minutes to get to. Our nearby wells are either dry or the water is muddy.

The worst thing, however, is the fact that so many are ill. For the second time some kind of stomach flu is going around; nausea, loose bowels, headache, etc. Boudie has been ill for 6 days and there is nothing I can do to make his tummy feel better. For a week he has had to live on watery porridge, which brings with it another danger: beriberi. There are 15 more in this barrack like Boudie, and 10 others in the hospital, more of them are adults. All this makes extra work. There are also some cases with severe amebic dysentery, and without proper medication it takes forever for these people to get well. There is almost no medication and laxatives are also not available. People who were never ill during the first year catch up with all the epidemic diseases now. Physical resistance to illnesses is getting lower.

However, there also is the belief that half a year from now we will be a lot further ahead.

On Monday, the 16^th of October, there was a short aerial combat after which pamphlets were dropped. We read seven different ones and the news is great. It is a relief to know what is happening. The Americans are still flying over so now and then, and there is an awful lot of traffic outside the camp. On such nights the commandant does not go to bed.

It seems that the POW’s in Makassar have left there and are staying somewhere in our neighborhood.

The cassava crew and the garden crew that planted vegetables in the fields are now delegated to the sewing room. These women were known to do the heavy work. An addition to the sewing room has been built, and 60 more machines were added. Apparently Nippon wants to be well dressed these days.

It is odd that the 4 new barracks that were built last June are still empty. When the commandant announced that no one else was going to come, 200 people announced that they wanted to move into the new barracks. It would be a break in their monotonous existence, and these barracks are built better, plus they have good wells, concrete gutters, etc. It still remains to be seen who would profit from this move.

A less memorable event was the collapse of the lavatories due to the wind. I shall never forget how we had to cope, it was not funny at all. It took weeks before they were rebuilt.

We are approaching a full moon, which means a lot of bombing raids; what a magnificent war.

Corten: Oct. 27. A club night for hats. Everybody must wear a hat that represents something. Mia and I busted our brains to come up with something we could wear together. Pop and Lies also wanted to join us and came up with Tomipoli, Tonny, Mia, Pop, Lies. We finally dragged Lili into our plans and we went like the Dionne quintuplets. We designed hats that were held in place by a large ribbon under our chins, put a corsage on the side of the hat, and added our names. The letters were cut out of fabric. All five of us had blue eyes, some blush on our cheeks, red lips, and we all had a spit curl on our forehead that was held in place with sugar water. Everything was there: hats of farmer’s wives, mantillas, chef’s hats, mason boards, turbans, fezzes, sailor’s hats, Javanese headdresses, etc., etc. Lots of fun. There was a jury who judged for the usual points, and awarded prizes. We got a prize for the most original hat, and when we drew among the five of us, Lies Haar got the prize. It was perfect!

In our first paper we wrote that we used wrapping paper from the sewing room, but made a request for better quality paper that someone else might have access to. We also asked our readers to handle the paper with care so that the last ones to read it wouldn’t get a rag. Then we asked for input, a poem, short story, puzzle, and jokes like: The barracks leader returns from a meeting: “Ladies a lot of rumors are going around again, we have to suppress them. Be sensible, and don’t spread rumors around.” A lady asks: “Oh yes, what kind of rumor?”

In an other column called “It is whispered that…….”

…..the high school is an unnecessary luxury

…..the girls act like grand ladies at school

…..the girls of the land crew go to work wearing a gas mask and a pickax

…. . that our charming land leader wore an original creation by Lelong. A flattering slimming design in a daring color

….. that our ‘government policy making’ teacher deems us fit to be a member of parliament

….. that the high school girls have no depth, and few of the are able to reach a higher plateau

…. since rice rations are in effect it was necessary to skip a meal in order to make tape, a desert dish

The news column from outside, about mail to Makassar and Pare-Pare: the subjects are the cassava field and the breeding of chickens. City news: the dysentery barrack in the cassava field, the 1 year existence of the costume ball at the pig pens, and mention of the celebration of the birthday of the Queen.

Oct. 28. Good grief, that was some kind of bombardment. It sounded like something of metal was hit. It won’t stop.

The dysentery cases are on the increase, and a baby seems to be in bad shape.

Oct. 29. The first paper is out! I’m curious to see how well it will be received.

Seth Paul: On the night of the 28^th to the 29^th of October a fierce bombardment took place. The alarm sounded at 22.00 and the all clear was not sounded until 3.00. The following day a scout appeared to assess the damage. It was not attacked, it was as if the Japs didn’t have a fighter to encounter the Allied plane.

On the 30^th, my mother’s birthday, another raid was conducted, but this time there was anti aircraft fire. Two days later, on my birthday, an Allied plane looked over the damage.

Voskuil: October 28, 1944. A dance had been planned for tonight, but it was postponed because of several reasons. The approaching full moon period which always signaled Allied bombing raids, and the fact that the Catholics wanted to have an evening service on the last Sunday of the month.

Jamadji called Joustra and asked her what the reason was for a party. Was it a special event that was being celebrated, and if so, what kind of event was it? He seemed very much agitated, and Joustra had a hard time calming him down.

All this happened yesterday evening, this morning Jamadji drove out in his car but returned a few hours later in a different car with a driver. The car was heavily camouflaged with netting and coconut palm leaves, the only place that was not covered was the front seat. They stayed for while, then visited the sewing room, went back to the Post, had a glass of iced coffee and left again, leaving the camp members wondering and excited about what they had just seen.

On the night of the 29^th heavy bombardment took place in Makassar or even Tjamba. There was a persistent rumble that made the ground in Kampili shake.

October 29 1944. This is a busy day. It started with a bunch of typed papers being delivered to the office in which all the names of the adults were to be sorted, not on cards but on small wooden boards which then would be put on the wall. Under the names on the boards, the name would be repeated in Japanese characters. If Jamadji chose to put someone in a different crew he would simply move the name to the place of that specific crew. We don’t know how he will solve the problem of women working in two different crews.

Little Henkie de Bree was buried this afternoon. He was one of the babies that were born at the beginning of the war. Almost without exception this group of children is in bad shape. Henkie was hospitalized with dysentery, but he died of an inability to keep food down, just like the others in this age group. After the burial ceremony Joustra went on to teach.

In the meantime an incident occurred in the sewing room. Someone told Jamadji that she could not work 4 ½ hours on the bad food that she had to eat, she simply couldn’t do it. Jamadji was furious! Didn’t we understand that we were at war and that he could have us eat dry rice only? Joustra was called immediately and he bellowed: “What are these women talking about, the food?” It was scandalous! Both kitchens were ordered not to serve food until 6 PM, but it was served at 5.30 PM.

At 11 PM we heard the hum of airplane engines, heavy bombardment lasted until midnight.

October 31 1944. Jamadji called the Pastor and told him that he didn’t need to slaughter. An annoying announcement after what took place yesterday. The Father then busied himself with some welding. Jamadji also threatened that he he would also withhold the vegetables as punishment, because we didn’t appreciate his efforts to get us our greens.

Another war baby, Jouke Goslinga, has escaped death miraculously. He was deathly ill and his mother was waiting for him to breathe his last when, all of a sudden, he opened his eyes, pushed away his covers, and drank out of the mug that his mother held for him. Then he stuck his thumb in his mouth and fell asleep. A while later when he got his shot he reacted normally, yelling and screaming. We don’t know what will happen in the future, but we hope that he will get better. This just seems to be a miracle.

On Sunday afternoon a Jap rode in on his bicycle. He was the tailoring teacher for the sewing room and gave instructions on how to cut fabrics for clothing. Yesterday he gave lessons from 8.30 AM till noon, and from 3.30 PM to 5.30 PM. He introduced the new sewing room afternoon hours when he started to give his cutting lessons.

No animal was slaughtered either today or yesterday, and the threat about the vegetables has come true too. We don’t get any, and the distribution of bananas and cucumber this morning has been taken back. The noon meal wasn’t too bad: rice with broth and a small fish.

Jouke Goslinga is on the brink of death again, the miracle didn’t last long.

PARE-PARE/Welleman: 10/20/44. The situation is getting serious. For several days now we have been alarmed about Allied reconnaissance planes that flew over our camp. Yesterday we were subjected to a short but fierce bombing raid, 7 or 8 bombs fell in the camp causing 5 deaths. Among them was my colleague and roommate Buffaert. We buried the victims this afternoon. Our block received a direct hit making part of it unfit for inhabiting. There was almost no loss of personal goods. Fortunately there was no fire, except for the mattress of van Blom that was smoldering.

The trenches next to the old men’s quarters received a hit that was so close that sand buried the trench. This is where all the casualties happened. Several people in the camp were wounded, some of them seriously. Today every one worked feverishly to make new trenches, further away from our living quarters. We are scared of a repeat performance that could be worse.

I needed to move since the row where my bed had been collapsed. I am in the same building, but there is no roof, so it seems like we are camping out.

The bombardment was over in a few minutes, but the experiences we had are indescribable. bombs fell all around you at a distance of 40 or 50 meters. You could hear the whizzing of the falling bombs. It is to be hoped that this situation won’t last long because the tension is more than we can bear.

October 21. At 11 AM the second raid happened. Again, 10 or 12 heavier bombs were dropped inside our camp in between the trenches. We suffer 2 dead, police inspector Lucas, and Father Smit. They were interred in the vegetable patch this evening. The rubble casualties are: the residence of the Jap guard, the hospital, the first aid station, the lavatories of block no. 5, the bathroom of block no. 7, and there are also many craters in the garden. The inhabitants of block no. 7, including me, were in an open trench when 4 bombs dropped about 30 meters away. I shall not describe our feelings!

In the afternoon the Japs gave the order to move out early in the morning. We are to take anything we can carry with us.

Sunday, October 22 1944. At 5 AM we moved to a canyon about 7 km South of Pare-Pare. Our new homes are a few rotten barracks. Every day our people in a cart carry the rest of our possessions out of the former camp. The whole camp is being moved to this location. There is a lot of confusion, but we are glad to get away from the bombs. I can assure you that it is no fun to watch the stately Americans fly over at a great altitude while squatting down in the trenches.

We don’t have any telephone service yet, so I am part of a live alarm system.

The sick and the old, those that are unable to work, or those that are free from doing work, are taken deeper down into the canyon during the day and stay there under the trees and bushes. We get two meals a day, a lot of bother, but we keep our chins up.

10/29/44. The name of the place where we are staying temporarily is called Bodjo, so named after the river that runs through the canyon. There are about ten barracks without walls that are our sleeping areas. They look like primitive market places. We lay close to each other on the ground. This is OK during the dry season, but when the monsoons come this will be a different story. During the week I sleep in an area that is 100 meter high for 3 nights. This is our alarm post, we take turns standing guard for 12 hours, and then rest for 24 hours. We can see the sea far in the distance, and have the same view to the North and to the South, you feel free as a bird when you’re up there.

We don’t have the regimented system of the camp and we hardly notice any Jap guards. The food is excellent, we have pork every day. It is not sure how long we will be able to stay here, because we will be flushed away during the monsoons. The river is our lavatory and bathroom; the cooking is done in the open under the trees. We’ll see what will happen.

During the bombardment Van Zwol lost the ring finger of his right hand and Coster broke a leg. The victims of the first bombardment include Gerrit de Graaf, Muller, Father Liberio and Father Hirleman. The first one to die in this camp was old man Van Diggelen.

Stolk: Now we’ll read the accounts of the boys Wiebe Seth Paul and Willy Badenbroek.

Wiebe S.P.: Shortly after the bombardment we received marching orders to leave our camp as soon as possible. But, where to? At the start of our evacuation one of the accompanying policemen mentioned the name Bodjo. Soon we all knew that Bodjo was located 7 or 8 km. south from here in the direction of Makassar.

Once we arrived at our destination it appeared that our future camp belonged to a Japanese firm called Taiwan Tjiksan. They specialized in meat products and raised pigs and cattle; they were the largest suppliers of meat for the Japanese Army and Navy. The camp was comprised of occupied pigpens and some that were empty. All this was located at the edge of the river Bodjo, in a valley that was bordered by very high wooded hills on either side.

There was an immediate need to build a kitchen and a hospital with the necessary latrines. The river made facilities for bathing and lavatories possible. It took a while before our new camp functioned sufficiently.

Badenbroek: We felt the results of how the Japs were forced to be on the defense. We had fewer facilities. Contact with the women’s camp became very bad; the Allied planes increased their presence over Pare-Pare. Then the alarm came. The people from Ambon had already experienced bombardments. We now are familiar with their fear of airplanes. With each alarm they ran as fast as they could to the trenches. Trenches? Sure, we had dug them at several locations. The sports field was located between our barrack and the old men’s quarters. Parallel to the ditch, close to the old men’s quarters, was a wide drainage channel. As far as I can remember we dug a few trenches for about 4 men each in the drainage channel. When the big alarm came we dove into our trench and 2 elderly men occupied the other one. One of them was Mr. Blom. We have heard that as long as you can hear the bomb come down there won’t be any danger. Well, we heard it and suddenly all hell broke loose. A rattling, zooming sound, very loud rattling, then an earsplitting noise, falling branches, and then everything was still. Then moaning and a cry for help. Close to our trench was a tree that had dropped a branch over our trench. We got out of our slowly and the view around us was horrible! The old men’s home had no trench. Their hiding place had been an open space surrounded by a dike. The space in between the dikes had wooden seats. When the bomb hit, not far away from us, the impact threw up so much sand that it covered everyone within the dikes. Father Geroldus was the only one who was able to free him self. We saw a hand move, we don’t know who it belonged to. We dug him out. We had hardly freed him when a second alarm was sounded and we all dived back into the trenches. There were ; some were very bad of, I’d rather not tell about them.

The sand crew went to work; graves had to be dug in the hard ground of the cemetery. We were depressed.

Only after the Reverend Bicker encouraged us to move did we agree to go to Bodjo; but not until after the 2^nd bombing raid. I cannot remember anything about the 2^nd one.

It took a few days before we were moved entirely to Bodjo. We went in caravans of carts, while shots were fired from above. Then we sought protection in the ditches along the road.

The camp was situated along the river Bodjo, which didn’t seem to be a large river. Our new home was a row of unfinished pigpens. These were located quite close to where the Japs lived. The real pigsties were located a short distance from our living area, which was a built a bit higher than the surrounding area. The river was on one side of us and a morass was on the other. The latter was a breeding haven for mosquitoes so it was logical that malaria cases were on the increase. Frits, my friend, and I didn’t escape either. There was not enough quinine, so that we just had to let the disease run its course, which was not entirely without danger. However, we did overcome this illness. There was no clean water; the river water was drunk right from the river, which contained the dysentery bacillus. A true dysentery epidemic broke out, and we were forced to build our latrines higher up so that our feces wouldn’t contaminate the river. All the food had to be covered; we ate under the mosquito netting on our beds. Because of the frequent use of the latrines by the dysentery patients we eventually, also came down with this disease. But we didn’t have to go into quarantine because this department was filled to overflowing.

MAKASSAR/Booy: 10/5/44. Two nights ago we witnessed another bombing raid, a total of 163 bombs were dropped. This time many installations of military worth were hit. These were the ships wharf, a repair assembly plant, and several new storage places. The quay with its storage facilities was not hit.

Yesterday evening a two-engine plane flew over to assess the damage. We watched for at least 10 minutes before the sirens sounded. We were just burying an Englishman. The airplane was right over us while we carried the coffin with the Dutch tricolor draped over it into the funeral car.

I trust that they now know the new location of our . It is possible to make very good photo’s with infra red light from the air. Pamphlets were dropped that proclaimed that Holland was free. Now it is our turn.

Last night a plane came over and disappeared again. They probably are keeping track of shipping lanes.

An Englishman who refused to obey one of his officers was beaten with more than 200 lashes. The example was a bit extreme, but a norm had to be established. The insubordination reached new heights, and a lot of rudeness was shown by the lower ranks towards their superiors. We don’t know how this problem will be solved once peace is here.

Lately the food has been unusually bad. No more fish or eggs, we eat the same thing everyday.

10/13/44. We continue to be visited by the Allies. Right after the first another one occurred. This time the harbor warehouses were taken care of, this is forbidden terrain for us. The damage must be substantial. We received a bunch of burnt tools afterwards. Almost every night an airplane flies low across the bay. The Allies aimed at different caliber anti-aircraft guns. Bamboo scaffolding has been erected over the covered trenches of the ‘gentlemen’. This has been done in the hope that the bombs will explode before they hit the trenches. I would love to take pictures of the air shelters of the Japs and our trenches. They must be terribly afraid of the Yanks. Lately they have been very annoying, especially Yosh. He hits, kicks, and pummels just like in the early days.

10/16/44. The night before last night a seaplane crashed into the bay. There are different explanations as to why this happened.

The most probable is that the pilot came in too low and crashed.

Three were saved; it was a Dutch plane and a Dutch crew. They were hospitalized in a Jap hospital.

The alarm is sounded every night, last night it happened 3 times. Today at noon about 20 four engine planes came over. They dropped bombs and thousands of pamphlets all over Makassar. About half an hour after the planes disappeared the pamphlets came down to earth. Many came down inside the camp, and we had to stay inside the trenches until the Japs got every one of them. Of course they didn’t find all of them. Some were written in Malay, others in Japanese. The colors on the paper were red, white, and blue. All of it was propaganda; the most beautiful propaganda would be an Allied landing. They must push on. According to the Japs about 400 planes had been over South Celebes today.

10/23/44. The alarm sounds twice a day now. Yesterday morning 7 American P 38 Cobras raked the skies over Makassar. They were gone in a wink of an eye. These planes have 2 engines and can fly long distances, but there is no way that they could have flown in from Australia. Last night we spent 2 ½ hours in the trenches, but nothing came over Makassar, but we could hear the drone of engines far out to sea. They were probably mining the waters again. This morning we spent about 2 hours in the trenches, but no airplanes came over.

We profited from last night’s raid. Burnt sugar was loosened with pick axes and about 70 bales were carried into the camp. We melt one bag a day, and this provides us with plenty of sugar for our breakfasts, once it has been sieved.

We also received quite a bit of burnt rice. Everything is sorted out, and every day small amounts are distributed. There is almost no meat. The natives have fled. We are curious to see what will eventually happen in the light of these events.

10/29/44. Time flies, November is almost here. Everything stays the same.

Last night another raid took place. They took turns dropping 30 bombs; they probably were flying in formations of three’s. We gauged the distance of the bombing target area to be about 1 to 3 km. from here.

This morning two crews went outside, the rest worked in the vegetable fields and elsewhere in the camp. We built a few more air raid shelters. These were made of oil drums dug into the ground covered with a meter of concrete and additional soil. We also buried several drums in which the Japs are keeping their valuables.

KAMPILI/Voskuil: November 2, 1944. Jouke Goslinga died at 5 AM, the mother stayed with him to the end. It was touching to watch this delicate little child show his wisdom, even at this early age. The burial took place this afternoon, his mother showed remarkable restraint when she uttered a few words to thank every one who had stood by her vigil.

The food still is very, very poor as a result of the complaint in the sewing room. The noon meal consisted out of rice and a small fish that was fried in oil. It was more fish bones than fish. In the evening we had rice and a watery onion sauce.

In the evening, however, we received some good news. Jamadji told the head of the kitchen crew, Mrs. de Hond, that she had become too skinny and it was time to stop the punishment. Today 2 buffaloes are going to be slaughtered and 150 loafs of bread are to be baked. Even the barracks that are not eligible for bread would get some, because the ladies had suffered so much hunger. Also, 2 extra bales of sugar would be distributed as well as 14 baskets of vegetables. And the bananas and cucumbers, which had to be returned earlier, also were redistributed. The whole camp cheered after having suffered for two days, we doubly appreciated these days of temporary plenty.

Stolk: I can remember something funny that happened during these lean days. A bunch of us young people sat at a table in the dining hall of barrack no. 3. We stood in line with our enameled plates and each of us received a dollop of rice and had some watery vegetable juice poured over it. When we returned to our table one of us said: “ Let’s see how many kilometers it takes to find a piece of meat.” Of course there was none.

However, some of us had saved for a rainy day and a can of corned beef appeared. This was quickly divided at our table. One of the boys at our table asked for the can, he stuck his nose into it, took a deep breath and had a bite of rice. “Delicious!” he said. The can went around our table until we finished our plates. The odd thing was that the rice did taste better. This caused a lot of amusement among us.

Voskuil: Friday, November 3, 1944. Today the death of Mai-Hi, the grandfather of the Mikado, is remembered. Mai-Hi was responsible for making Japan great.

Yesterday evening a fierce bombing raid took place. Searchlights were very active early in the evening, but all of a sudden the lights were gone, and instead we saw the glow of a large fire. Just before the fire an airplane was sighted that seemed to unload an avalanche of fire balls and bombs. At 1 AM everything was quiet again.

Jamadji was very friendly and helpful when a newly killed buffalo needed to be boned before the afternoon meal.

The field crew of Jans Luykendijk was directed to help clean 14 baskets of vegetables. We all received a slice of bread in the evening, and in stead of having roll call, Jamadji announced that we could stay up until 11 PM and could dance and sing.

Last night we heard a lot of traffic, many cars drove back and forth.

November 4, 1944. Joustra stayed in bed for 2 days with abdominal problems. She now has been transferred to the dysentery barrack. Three complex leaders took her place.

November 5, 1944. This morning Mrs. Lucas was summoned to the office by Jamadji. He asked her how many children she had, where her husband was, if she had ever heard from him, how old she was, what age her children were, what crew she belonged to, and where her parents were. Mrs. Lucas forgot to ask him why he wanted to know all this, so on her way back to her barrack she turned around and asked him. Grinning he told her that there was no reason for his questioning her and she should return to her barrack.

She returned trembling and pale as a ghost, she lay down on her bed and cried. We all tried to cheer her up by saying that several women had been questioned that way and nothing came of it, as a matter of fact, they received notes afterwards. Mrs. Deibler was never called to the office, and heard about her husband’s death months later from the Father. We tried to console Mrs. Lucas and ease away her anxieties.

Mrs. Buffaert also was called to the office and she was asked the same questions. She came to tell Mrs. Lucas in the afternoon and laughed telling her that she wasn’t worried about a thing.

When Noor went into the office to find out who was going to accompany Jamadji on his evening rounds since Joustra was ill, she suggested that Mrs. Pfeiffer should take over as she was the oldest. He didn’t respond right away and Noor then told him that the women he saw earlier in the day were very much worried. She asked him if there was something the matter with their husbands. Jamadji confirmed the fact that they were dead, but he thought it better not to tell them yet. Noor didn’t agree and told him that even though the news was bad the women should be told. He agreed and told her to go tell them and return afterwards.

Noor first saw Joustra and asked her how this problem should be handled. Joustra advised her that she should ask the Father to inform Mrs. Lucas, and Mrs. Herdes should tell Mrs. Buffaert. Thus the ladies received the sad news.

When Noor returned to the office she found Jamadji sitting at a table. He told her if a parachutist would land in the camp that he and no.2 would go outside the camp and shoot themselves. When Noor asked him why, he pointed to a vase with flowers. He pointed to a wilted flower and said that once the enemy landed he had done his duties and his life would be over, like the flower he would be useless. He then told her that 2 planes were shot down during the last raid, one of them had a crew of 9 Australians of which only 3 survived. He asked one of the officers if they knew that there was a women’s camp in Kampili. The officer said that this was known in Australia and that they kept track of the camp during their sorties. This quieted Jamadji’s fears, and he continued to tell Noor that he had been rough towards the women in the beginning but he had to. Did she think that they would have acted like cattle and do all the work that they are doing now?

November 6, 1944. There were two burials in the afternoon, at 4.30 PM Jantje Papu was interred. His European mother had taken him into the camp with her. He also died of an inability to keep food down. She had adopted the little boy when her husband ran a plantation in New Guinea. Even although Jantje’s parents were dead, she could not return to the plantation because his brothers and sisters would never forgive the adoptive parents if they would not see Jantje again.

At 6 PM 3 year old Jo-Jan Kruse was buried. After the ceremonies were over Jamadji asked Noor if the 6 ladies, who had lost their loved ones were sad, because he remembered reading that Europeans would hold a party when a family member had died. Noor told him that the family members that had come over for the funeral would get a meal before they went back home. He then asked if these ladies would find solace if he would present them with a meal. When Noor told him that it would not lift their spirits, he said that he would do anything in his power to grant their wishes. Noor then said that Mrs. Goslinga wanted to let her husband in Pare-Pare know that their little son had died. Jamadji said that, since there had just been a mail delivery he couldn’t do that but, when he was in Makassar last Saturday, he had called Goslinga on the phone and told him about the death of his son.

Noor then asked Jamadji that Magda Buffaert wanted photos and drawings from the artist Hofker, and Jamadji promised that he would look into it.

November 7, 1944. At 9 AM 9 American bombers were dropping bombs in the neighborhood. At that time Jamadji had visitors and was in a panic. The visitors were to hide along the driveway into the camp. He was furiously agitated at anyone who had not sought shelter. When we thought that the alarm was over Jamadji hit Truus Deckers and Guusje La Riviere in the head with a bamboo stick because he said that the alarm was still on. He told Noor that he would beat anyone who didn’t lie down immediately when the alarm sounded. During his tirade he appeared very tense and perspired profusely. Since he had to tend to his visitors he could not take action against the others, but had them come to his office.

When the visitors left the women had been waiting for 1 and ½ hours and Jamadji told them to return at 4 PM. So they did. Since Jamadji was out of the office they waited until 5.30 PM. When he came in he talked to them and while he was talking he didn’t like the attitude of one of them, and asked her why she looked bored. She said that she had a headache. He told her to come forward and hit her on the head with a bamboo stick. When he raised his arm to hit her again Noor intervened and he hit her arm instead. This irritated him and he said that people were stupid like animals, not like smart animals like a dog, but stupid like buffaloes. Why did a leader always step in when he wanted to punish a stupid woman?

During the alarm that morning he had told Noor that if pamphlets were to fall in the camp they should be taken to the office immediately. He also had two native policemen go around with a couple of sharpened bamboo sticks for picking up the pamphlets. Alas, nothing fell in the camp, and what we thought to be pamphlets were large leaves that were blown into the air by a wind gust. It was a coincidence that the leaves were blown around just when the Allied planes were in the air.

November 8, 1944. Yesterday it was announced that we had to exercise alarm procedures instead of the morning roll call. Not really, while roll call takes only 5 minutes, we spent 1and ½ hours in the ditch. While Noor and Jamadji inspected everything they had the school kids leave the school and go across the canal into a native village to seek shelter.

Today the move to the new barracks was begun and must be completed by 6 PM on Thursday.

Thursday, November 9, 1944. This morning there was another exercise. The time it would take for the children to move from the school to cross the canal into the village was being measured. Jamadji considered the 9 minutes too long.

Saturday, November 11, 1944. This morning 2 Japs arrived. I recognized one of them as the aide who announced the visit of the dignitaries on the 17^th of February. They went outside the fence and talked to the native village heads. They had hardly finished when the sound of airplane engines was heard. Jamadji went outside and looked up and told me to sound the alarm bell. I also had to go to Barrack no. 7 to make sure that everyone would be in the ditches. Jamadji stood in front of the office with the visitors and observed several women standing around. He sent me to tell them to get down. I ran towards the group and yelled at them that they had to get down immediately, that the commandant could see everything from his office and was furious to see them standing around.

When the visitors were gone he summoned the leaders of barracks no. 7 and 8. They stood in front of the office for 2 hours. If their people don’t want to go to their shelters, do they want everybody to stand in the square for punishment? Make sure that this does not happen again, and he let them go.

In the evening he summoned Dr. Goedbloed and jumped down her throat. She pleaded to have ambulatory patients stay in the hospital, but he insisted that they should go back to the barracks where they could recover. There were ten of them.

Sunday, November 12, 1944. This morning there was another alarm. We saw an American plane leave a smoke trail. Unfortunately there was nothing to read, the trail was one long curved line. Yesterday, when we heard faint engine noise, Jamadji rang the alarm bell like a madman, riling everybody. The women ran to the ditches with their kids and valuables, and when we had spent some time hiding and the noise had faded, he rang the all clear sound. In an unguarded moment he showed his omnipresent anxiety and now feels that he must save face. That is why all the adults have to catch 200 flies each this Sunday and deliver them between 4.30 PM and 5 PM. Jamadji would inspect them himself. However, there were some problems: there were no flies, and it was raining hard; the first rain of the season.

Monday, November 13. Metske Kramer died at midnight last night. He had always been a healthy baby, and had been ill for just a few days. This is the 5^th baby to die within a few weeks. He will be interred at 4 PM. Baby Juta is very ill. This afternoon 2 Jap doctors came in and the order was given that all the babies had to file past these doctors in the church barrack. They looked over the general health of these children. They looked in on the children’s hospital, and when they left they got a large bouquet of bougainvillea flowers out of the car. They said that it was for the new grave. The bright colors of the bouquet were visible from a great distance.

In the evening Mrs. Hueting was punished for taking her ill child to the first aid station just before roll call. Jamadji said that if the child had died it would have been a different matter, but because he or she was still alive it was her fault to endanger their lives. She was dismissed an hour later.

Tuesday, November 14, 1944. This morning at 11 AM we suddenly heard boom, boom, boom, and shortly thereafter the airplanes. No. 2 gave the alarm right away. Jamadji had left for Makassar. Everyone ran to the nearest ditch. The threat to punish everyone who watched the planes had made some impression. Even although he wasn’t there everything went in an orderly fashion. We heard bomb explosions and anti aircraft fire in the distance and saw 17 planes, Liberators and Lockheeds. After a while the noise disappeared and the all clear was sounded. But a short while later we heard the sound of exploding bombs and anti aircraft fire again and the alarm was sounded again. This time it took a lot longer than the first time. Apparently incendiary bombs were dropped because the explosions were heard after the planes had left.

At about 12 PM no. 2 rode into the camp, he had stayed outside the camp during the alarm. He looked at the clock in the office and exited the camp again. A while later a native policeman told us that the all clear could be given.

In the afternoon Jamadji showed To and Noor 2 incendiary bombs that had been dropped at a 2 km. distance from the camp. Later on the natives brought more of them in, one of them had not exploded. All together 40 bombs were turned in. They are round and measure about 5 cm across; the cartridges could be seen inside those bombs that had exploded already.

November 15, 1944. Baby Hans Christiaan Juta had been buried. Father Beltjens gave a touching speech.

The commandant went into the hospital and told all ambulatory patients to get out. He yelled at the sick and swung his bamboo stick around. It scared many patients so much that they departed hastily. Only those that were too weak were left behind with heart palpitations. There were 4 of them. Dr. Marseille saw to it that a few could return to the hospital in the afternoon.

For several weeks the older High School girls had been ordered to work on a chain to carry water buckets. Zus van Goor had thought of it and Jamadji accepted the idea. The members of the camp loaned the buckets. This morning that order was rescinded. I must add that nobody liked this regulation. Those that favored this rule had no buckets or children; this was a minority. (Zus van Goor fell in this category.-OY) But today the girls were assigned to a new task. Since the day before yesterday a number of Japs came to visit. They had gone to the empty houses no. 8 and 9 and brought baskets full of mica. The girls had to split the mica and Ann Herdes was told to find 7 ladies who had to do this in the afternoons too. We suspect that the mica is to be used for war purposes, and that the showing of the incendiary bombs might have been a ploy to make this a necessary job. Jamadji’s assertions that we don’t have to worry because the Australians know that we are here, don’t jibe with the facts that the bombs were dropped so close to our camp.

Yesterday morning Jamadji told Noor that the doctors were probably shocked by his behavior in the hospital, and he wanted to give them a dinner. However during the conversation he changed his mind and said that the dinner would be given on the 16^th of November to all the leaders of the complexes and the heads of the different crews. The dinner for about 50 people would be held in the dining hall of barrack no. 16 at 6 PM. He explained that it was his birthday; everyone had to bring their own silverware.

Thursday, 16 November, 1944. It is 6 PM, and the dinner is about to start, but Jamadji is not home and no one knows where he is. Apparently he told Van Diejen that dinner should start without him.

At 6.45 PM he came home on his bike. Noor was waiting for him; she told the ladies to sit down, but wait for Jamadji He disappears into his bedroom and shows up with a loincloth around his waist. He told Noor to let the ladies start dinner. She continues to wait for him but tells the ladies to start eating. However the ladies wait too. When he is ready to join the party he confides to Noor that everybody will watch him. She disputes this, but on their way to the dining hall he notices a group of women watching him. He reproached Noor and said: “See, I was right.” When they enter the dining hall where everybody is seated he shyly asked where he should sit. He is taken to his seat and once he sat down he seems to feel more at ease. But after a while he asks Mrs. de Hond who sits next to him if he could leave. She replied: “Not yet.” Some time later he asked the same question, but after a resolute “No” he stayed till the end.

Saturday, November 18, 1944. This morning Jamadji left for Makassar neatly dressed in his uniform. He returned at 1 PM with two medical officers and a large supply of dysentery medication. It was announced that everybody will be inoculated at 2.30 PM. In the meantime Jamadji and the two officers walk by the ditches and the garbage dumps. Then the order is given that the doctors and the high school girls must spread lime back of the latrines in the open sewers, on the garbage heaps and in the gutters.

This morning the coolies and the native policemen received dysentery shots too.

The amount of incendiary bombs increase; there are 60 of them in the office. Natives bundled them up and hung them from a rattan yoke so that they resemble fruit from a distance. Someone commented that these bombs were dropped on the poor natives, and someone else retorted that maybe Japs live in the camps.

It is said that the commandant himself narrowly escaped being hit by such a bomb and he mocked the fact that the dinner party was held to celebrate his escape from death while two natives nearby were not so lucky.

Joustra was dismissed from the hospital on the 16^th and spent at least an hour talking to Jamadji on the evening of the 17^th.

Saartje Seth Paul had been warned repeatedly by Jamadji to tie up the dog, Litjin, that she had befriended. However, the dog continued to attack chickens, goats, and ducks so that Jamadji shot him outside the fence. A sad end but necessary.

We have not started to spread the lime on the trash dumps yet. In the afternoon the commandant ordered all adults to show up with a bucket of water and a broom to clean the dining halls. Then he issued soap to each barrack and a second cleaning was begun, this time the ceilings were treated. Because Jamadji biked back and forth between the barracks everybody was kept busy. The water was hauled from the canal, the water was a bit higher than usual. When the next meal was served the dining halls shone bright albeit a bit wet.

The high school students have to show up at the school at 7 AM, even the boys for the pig crew had to show up at 7.30 AM. This rule was necessary because at least 30 of the 80 boys play hooky every day. The mothers cannot control these big boys and they are glad that the commandant intervened. Yesterday he punished a group of boys because they were playing in the papaya orchard, which is forbidden. He had them run ahead of his bike for an hour. Then each one of them was hit on the head and let go.

Sunday, November 19, 1944. At 6 PM Jamdji summoned Joustra, Van Goor, Noor, Pfeifer, Nanning, Goedbloed and Marseille. They had to walk past barrack no. 1 along the cassava fields, and the woods outside the camp. They were looking for suitable air raid shelters. Nothing else was being said. It seems that the dropping of incendiaries has shocked Jamadji’s faith for the safety of the camp.

This week Joustra will return to school and the week after she will resume her position as head of the camp. Jamadji had offered her a stay in the cassava field to rest, but she turned it down. But Noor had asked if she could spend some time with her son when Joustra takes over the reins of the camp, because she, Noor, is totally exhausted.

Tuesday, November 21, 1944. Yesterday evening Jjamadji punished 4 ladies by sending them to the hospital. The number of dysentery patients increased, some of them are seriously ill. In spite of strict orders to isolate these patients, the 4 in question were seen talking to the women in the barracks from the road.

The splicing of mica has become a new industry that involves everybody from the different crews. In the morning the girls work at it and in the afternoons the ladies take over. On Saturdays the teachers splice and on other afternoons the ladies from the hauling crew, the cassava fields, etc. take over. The splicing is supervised by Jap no.2 . Yesterday afternoon when 4 ladies from the cassava crew made a lot of noise by singing loudly and provoking the commandant with a sassy greeting when he entered, he could not let this go without action. He had to save face in front of no. 2 and the other camp members and punished the 4, Soeters, Kloprogge, Sien gerritsen, and Ria van Breugel, by having them stand in front of the Post from 8.30 AM to 11.30 AM this morning.

This morning the father busied himself with the repair of the Jamadji’s glasses. They had been broken for several days. Why they were not repaired in Makassar is not clear. Had the business been bombed? The Celebes Optical shop is located in the middle of the Chinese section. Maybe they ran out of parts, they wrote earlier that they lacked parts when several pairs of glasses were returned without having been repaired.

Thursday, November 23, 1944. Joustra resumed the leadership today and received an OK for Noor to rest up in the cassava field for a few days. Yesterday Jamadji asked both of them to dinner. Today Noor left for the cassava field with her mattress some luggage and her son for a 3-day rest period.

This was a busy day. Low flying airplanes took the camp and the commandant by surprise, and the alarm was not sounded until they were right over the camp. When Jamadji called me after the all clear was sounded I didn’t find him in his office. He was at the shelter of the Kindergartners outside the fence. When he returned a while later he said that the children had to stay in the shelter for another half-hour, until the lunch bell was sounded. When Joustra questioned this order he said that it was not warm in the shelter.

He was delighted with the new trenches under the bushes for the little ones, and it was a good thing that he didn’t hear the objections of their mothers who had taken a very dim view of their kids being taken outside the fence during a raid.

Yesterday the Reverend nailed boards on the wall of the office, 170 nails are used to hang the nameplates. In Japanese my name is Hosuheiru, hos is fox, and heiro means pit or hollow.

Friday, November 24, 1944. The 4 ladies from the cassava field are being sent to the mica shop for punishment, and Van Breugel was removed to do the dirty work in the hospital, while the 3 others were moved to the dysentery barrack to be nurses aides. Since the dysentery cases are on the increase many nurses came down with it too.

Once you’re on the wrong side of Jamadji you’re moved from one unpleasant job to the other. Many have found that to be true.

Saturday, November 25, 1944. Last Sunday Joustra, the complex leaders, Dr’s Goedbloed and Marseille, walked outside the barbed wire fence with a secret mission. Jamadji had said that they couldn’t talk about it, but it leaked out just the same. Barracks had been erected outside the wire fence along a path leading away from barrack no. 1, including a makeshift hospital. For the bad days, Jamadaji had said.

Apparently he was more worried than he seemed to be on the surface.

Yesterday he started on an air raid shelter next to the office and in front of the children’s hospital. He also helps from time to time and he urges the coolies on.

The increase of dysentery cases has made him quite anxious, and he ordered that a lot of cleaning should be done in the morning. Everything had to be taken outside in the sun and could not be taken inside before noon.

During the course of the day a tall bamboo guard tower was erected, it stands outside the fence and next to the wood storage place. A native guard keeps watch continuously. Underneath the tower two trenches were dug. Three trenches have been dug next to the central kitchen inside the camp.

We have not recovered from the dysentery shot we got ten days ago. Those who were bothered the least still have a red, hard swelling on their arm. Those who are really suffering have a pussy swelling, and even Dr. Goedbloed has a swollen hand. Dr. Marseille also had a bit of a problem, but the joke is going around that the doctors gave themselves a double dose. But what did the rest of us get in our arms?

Jamadji promised Joustra that he would not leave unless it was urgent, and then he must let her know for how long he plans to be away, and where he is going. This information is necessary in view of the air raids. It would be very difficult to have to make a right decision without knowing his whereabouts.

Corten: November 25. Those that were given a shot became very ill. One says that the stuff was no good while others claim that we just can’t take it anymore. All day long we drag around. We take over the duties for others and take care of the kids whose mothers are ill.

The November paper has been out for several days. We didn’t have to write it by hand, everything was typed, much neater. Also, a lot more can be written down in typed form. Tineke and Suzy typed everything. Mia and I took car of the heading and the drawings. Olly is ill. This is what we thought up this time:

First there was an introduction with a request to create a song for our club. Then:

A strike in the fields, the farmers refuse to work in the mines, and they are now doing charity work in the city.

City news: Gigantic sandstorms plague the city, and the American city dwellers help the school kids when they groaned about their tests. There was a lot of cheering when the adults spread cheat sheets around. The farmers undergo a deep depression and the Department of Agriculture is trying to fight it.

The title of the serial is: “The silent corner.” The usual puzzle, ads, a short story about a camp event, a few jokes. Then:

it is whispered that:

the girls won’t sew anymore, because they’re hardheaded, and it’s a shame to waste all that yarn….

…Kampili can have as much as it wants of the eggplant, because it grows like weeds in the fields.

…The High School girls have nothing else to do but destroy buckets while participating in a chain gang.

(Then follows a cute song about a little boy who thinks that his Dad left, so that he could steal a few mangoes from a tree. But dear old Dad did not leave; catches his son and tans his bottom. It should be sung to the tune of a well-known Dutch ditty. My apologies for not being able to translate it properly, i.e. rhymes and all. OY).

Corten: Nov. 28. The evenings are too short. First we have homework, then we make St. Nicholas presents. I wrote a story in a book for Carla. What a shame that I couldn’t borrow the typewriter. We wrote down names on a paper for St. Nicholas eve. These are the persons we make a gift for. I made a small calendar that shows the emblem of our club.

We practice choir songs each evening with Mrs. Schuts, we do this for the club and our paper.

Voskuil: Wednesday, November 29, 1944. In spite of his promise to Joustra, Jamadji left at 8 AM yesterday and didn’t return until till 5.30 PM. When we watched his car come up the driveway we saw that there was a monkey next to the driver. The monkey wanted to exit through the windshield, but Jamadji made him go through the rear door. Several ladies just passed by and Jamadji sicked the monkey on them while letting the rope out. Yelling out loud they scattered in all directions. This pleased him no end, but once the newness was gone he tied the monkey to a tree on the lawn. Soon the children crowded around it. Everyone thought that the monkey would be around for a day, but he was still there the next morning.

The hauling crew became the flour making crew since Jamadji wants us to get one loaf of bread a day. In spite of all the sifting and baking, Jamadji persisted to push this plan through. He had a huge oven built which could bake 50 loaves at a time. The hauling crew hardly exists any more, all that is done by coolies. It used to be that the coolies and the ladies worked side by side, but that is not allowed anymore.

The cassava crew has been rescinded, only 8 of the 50 remain. The rest works in the sewing room, a crew of 125. Mainly coolies do the fieldwork.

Since 10 months ago coconuts were brought in to the camp, 2 carts full, everybody cheered. Joustra had asked for them and because of the upcoming holiday Jamadji OK’d it.

From now on a boy named Boy de Bree will sound the alarm when planes come near. Bellemee will still ring the bell from 11.30 AM to noon. Boy had to first learn how to recognize the different planes. It seems that the Jap planes are wider than the Americans aircraft. When the commandant showed Boy a picture of the rising sun, and he asked what it was, Boy answered: “The Ball brand.” Jamadji corrected him by saying that it was the Rising Sun.

A while later Boy made another mistake and Jamadji corrected him again.

BODJO/Welleman: 11/5/44. We’ve been here 14 days and things are settling down. Four guys and I, Jacobs, de Graaf, Lindner, and Hoogeveen, went to live in one of the pigpens a week ago. These are small rooms that can be closed off and they have a stone floor. We don’t have cots yet, but hose will come. Every day handcarts are going to Pare to pick up a few things. The pigs, cows, buffaloes, chickens, etc. are here. Everything that could be broken down was carried over here. The few men who stayed behind to take care of the animals and possessions are here too.

I still am part of the alarm crew. We rigged a shelter against the sun and the rain; it can get awfully hot during the day. I will let my beard grow for the time being, if I will keep it remains to be seen. The food still is pretty good, but we don’t get enough vegetables. Right now we are eating leaves of a tree.

Other that that it still is an awful mess in the camp, especially if you need to go to the river during the night. You can break your neck. There is virtually no discipline in the camp, and the reverend Bicker has his hands full trying to run things. Maybe this situation will improve soon.

11/23/44. I haven’t written for a while in spite of the fact that I am well. A lot of sickness is caused by amebic dysentery in the camp, more than 100 cases. However, the patients heal pretty well, maybe that’s because we had shots about 2 months ago. So far, the only victim is Mr. Bulow, he was a Prussian officer and a block commander in Makassar. He also is in the service of the Dutch government. He was different, and in spite of his oddities, no one can forget him.

The job I have is not as light as it seems, a nice job, but it would become difficult once the rains come. The first rain has fallen, and I must admit that we are positioned high and dry, even although we find ourselves in a precarious situation.

A lot of heavy work is demanded from us, but the food is OK. Until now we have enjoyed a lot of freedom, however flies plague us all the time. Tonight I will move to my post up the hill. Many camp members become very nervous whenever they hear the sound of airplane engines and look up fearfully, ready to take off. We have seen American bombers and scouts high in the sky above the camp, and we don’t feel safe at all. They probably don’t know that the Dutch are in this camp.

Fourteen days ago we took a few carts to Pare to fetch a few of our things, we left at 4 AM and returned at 10 AM. It was nice for a change, but I hit my feet a few times, they became infected, so I won’t do it again in the near future.

We did figure out that a total of 32 bombs hit an area that was not larger than 5 or 6 hectares. Need I say more; I still shudder when I think of the sizzling sound of the falling bombs, and it is no surprise that odd feelings well up whenever we see the Allied planes, like a week ago.

In a few days we will all be inoculated against dysentery. A Japanese doctor came to give us some medications, like Epsom salts, and carbolic acid. We hope that the situation won’t worsen, because we feel bad when we’re sick. A few hospital barracks were built about 500 meter further down the ravine, but they still won’t hold all the sick. However, the building continues. Hoogeveen came down with a bad sunburn on the second day. He is better now, he’s my roomie and we keep each other company when we have the duty.

Well, I wonder when we’ll be free; I long for that day, but it is better not to dwell on it. We’ll get there eventually.

11/29/44. I am at my post, it’s 8 AM.I have a beautiful view over the sea, the mountains, and the valley where we now live. We have not had any alarms during the last weeks, a good thing for the camp.

Since Bulow passed away another three have died, father van Well, Bestebreur, an the reverend Verdenius. The three suffered from dysentery, malaria, and typhoid fever together. There are a few more whose condition is critical. There are still 140 who are ill and no serum is available. We had a shot a week ago and hope to get another one soon.

Our guard duty has been limited to day-time hours only, which means that I can enjoy the view and my freedom every day. Soon the monsoon will be here, which would make things a bit less pleasant.

The food is till good, but there is not much of variety, there are no hot peppers and very little fruit. That’s why I eat a lot of coconut, but I feel good, and I am free of foot and leg wounds.

One of the things I keep myself busy with is the repair of my clothes. I only wear shirts during roll call; I usually wear a pair of shorts, which need a new piece of cloth every few days. But I can sew well, to put a new seat on my pants doesn’t require any special skills, and many think that I use a sewing machine. Most of the time my feet are bare, although I prefer to wear soccer shoes and cover my legs with leggings whenever I go up to my guard post. The result is that I need to darn my socks continually, I do that while I am standing guard in between my duty hours. My suitcase was lightly damaged during the last raid, but it still serves its purpose. I gave away my trunk to Mr. Rusholme from Christmas; he managed a fertilizer plant there. He cannot use the trunk any more because he found it badly dented somewhere.

It is easier not to shave at this time, it also saves on shaving blades and soap, and it takes time.

The monkeys come very close to the rock; it is a lot of fun to watch them.

11/30/44. Yesterday Father Martens and Mr. Otten died, today Brother Chrispinus and Lagas went. Yesterday I was present at the burial for the first two by candle light under the moon. Simple but touching services. Seven of us rest under the mango tree outside the camp. These are sad days.

Badenbroek: What was camp life in Bodjo like, boys? We trekked to Pare-Pare on a regularly to get provisions for our camp with several carts. It was not exactly fun, since the alarm sounded several times during the trip. We went to a rice mill several times to get a few bales of rice and, sure enough, the alarm went off. I got into a wide flat pit, which smelled horribly. Come to find out that it was a sewer well. I had a choice to smell or live!

Close to the camp was a guard post at the top of a hill. We took turns to man it. When the alarm was sounded we would fly up the hill and into the trees. We tried to watch the planes attacking the ships in the harbor. War is and stays scary. I can only remember the machine gun fire. They didn’t shoot at us, but the noise was so frightening that you’d want to look for cover. Even behind a rock that barely covers your head. All of a sudden someone yelled to stop talking so loud. Who could hear us, the pilots? Insane!

Wiebe Seth Paul: There was plenty of opportunity to trade with the outside world. After some time our native policemen friends were replaced with the Hei Ho, these men were natives that were trained by the Japs. They were armed with revolvers, unlike the former guards, our partners in crime, who only had a dagger. The youngest Hei Ho especially was a fanatic.

We also learned that the Allies are based in Morotai and Balikpapan.

Pare sits on a bay and we could see from the hills that several Jap ships were anchored there. The surrounding area was scouted almost every day and the ships would be attacked if they were thought to carry war provisions. One day, during one of these attacks, the attacking planes flew low over Bodjo. The native guard emptied his revolver like a fanatic, and the youngest one shot him self in the foot. He hobbled moaning to our camp hospital. He was not treated with tender loving care on purpose. Unfortunately the Allies lost one of their own, a black man, he was interred with military honors, the Japs said. The Hei Ho who shot himself in the foot, however, became remarkably more considerate.

MAKASSAR/Booy: 11/3/44. It was a big Japanese holiday today. Our orders were to work as usual. However, the Yanks prevented that. They bombed Makassar last night for the 3^rd time in 6 days. They used incendiary bombs during the last 2 raids, and dropped a few runs of explosives afterward. Last night we had to stay in the trenches because pamphlets were dropped too. All of them were found except for the familiar last one. It went around as soon as it was found. It showed a good likeness of Mac Arthur with the legend that the landing in the Philippines was successful, and that the connection with Japan had been broken.

Almost every raid is accompanied by pamphlets. For the last few days a twin engine Allied bomber takes a look at 10 AM. It usually disappears when the alarm sounds. At night the Japs work with 3 searchlights, and once they have a plane in sight they shoot at it with all their might. During last night, however, the Allies returned fire with machine guns. The planes fly straight over the camp so that we can hear the splinters of the grenades come down. Thank goodness nobody has been hit so far. We carry a pillow with us to cover our heads. Although these are dangerous games, they give us plenty of diversion. After a raid most of the crews work in the garden because the Japs want to use their men to dig out the victims and put out the fires.

However, today everybody celebrates a holiday, yesterday two pigs were slaughtered and the food was pretty good.

Yesterday morning we buried Sailor 1^st class Bijlsma, he had tuberculosis.

When the alarm is sounded 3 times everybody returns to their quarters. Those that work elsewhere must come running back double time, or return by car. Last week they ran back and forth 3 times. Those that work in the middle of Makassar always run double time. For these men it is a test, and it will get worse before it will get better, but then the end will be here. Most of us have a much too rosy outlook, based on the last events. The main roads into and around the camp have been paved, and the bamboo tops of the guardhouses have been replaced by wood. One of our industries uses the most modern machines that are available. However, the work that is done by us is of much better quality than the work of the modern machinery, which is handled by the Japs. The reason for this discrepancy is that the Japs are not professionals, and their machinery is not complete. Also, the real leadership emanates from Engineer Tarenskeen.

To construct the roofs of the guardhouses I need to deliver 10 carpenters every day, but they are not allowed to bring their own tools. All they have to work with are tools that went through a fire. Only 3 handsaws are available among 50 carpenters. That’s the way the work gets done. Nothing operates at 100%.

11/14/44. Although not much has happened these last weeks, the alarm is sounded every day. Last week the airfield near Makassar, Mandai, was machine gunned by a few P 38’s. Gasoline storage areas exploded. Just then there were a couple of trucks with POW’s who were hauling rice from Maros, they saw everything. If they hadn’t seen it we would have never heard about it.

This morning a convoy of 25 4-engine bombers dropped bombs on Makassar in a criss-cross fashion, later on another 7 did the same thing. Several work crews stayed in town, they lucked out because the bombs fell around their shelters. Next to Headquarters an incendiary bomb was dropped right on a shelter. Nobody was wounded, not even by the exploding anti aircraft guns. A lot of pamphlets fell and the Japs picked up everything.

11/20/44. Today we saw four P 38’s with our own eyes. They used machine guns in the harbor and set one ship on fire. One plane raked the camp and briefly burned an orange light; it was a magnificent plane and it provided us with a beautiful interlude during our captivity.

Last week we replaced the bamboo roof of the Sutadjo’s house with a wooden cap and Spanish tiles. It took 3 days to finish. We worked to past 7 in the evening. But the work was pleasant. We are also building inside the camp, 4 small buildings were erected for cobblers, tailors, yarn spinners, and a storage place. This is the way we’ll work to the end, who knows, it might even be a sweet experience.

Material that has come through a fire arrives from the Chinese quarter on a daily basis. I must stop, because it is almost dark, and my little pot is waiting next to me, it even holds some onion and tomato, something that is unknown to us.

Ash yes, the Sutadjo made a farewell speech and will be replaced by another. This event can hardly improve our lot.

11/26/44. It has been relatively quiet these last days. The P 38’s visited a few times, nothing much else happened.

The 2^nd Jap house has been tiled too. On the 2^nd day we finished up at 9.30 PM, 200 men worked at it. When we had finished we received a bale of damaged sugar, which was brought to my ward. I divided the sugar among the leaders of the different work crews so that each of us received a full cup of sugar.

Today Yoshida was promoted to adjutant.

Among the damaged goods that came out of the fires were 2 motorcycles, 90 cm3 with pedals. We took both bikes apart and managed to make one good motor bike, it rides great. The mechanics, who repair the cars for the Japs, stole chains, cables, and tires. If the job is going to benefit Yosh anything goes.

While we were working on the roofs for the Jap houses I misappropriated 5 kegs of wire nails; all this is allowed. I don’t believe that there are any other people in the world that are more corrupt than the Japanese. They acquire everything through illegal means, and it is not until you work with them that you realize the tremendous animosity they feel towards each other. It doesn’t bother them when 50 of their own men are shot dead, their Oriental attitude is unfathomable; it is like that now and always will be.

We know that the Allied transports have been sighted East of Luzon and Mindanao. In Europe the greatest war has been burned into history. According to the Japs the Allies want to force a break through before winter. We don’t know if Holland is totally free.

A few more days, or maybe a few weeks, then the monsoon will start and then the bad times will be here.

KAMPILI/Voskuil: Saturday, December 2. We have been through a few tumultuous days. On Thursday afternoon at 5.30 PM everything was fine, Jamadji had given the monkey to Halewijn who had to take care of it. She had ambiguous feelings about the animal, because she knew that it would eat fruit, and we are glad when we get a banana once a week. But Jamadji ignores such details. He picked the monkey up in the afternoon and put it on the handlebar of his bike. Then he rode through the camp, much to the amusement of the children and the adults. After he had returned the monkey to the pig pens the troubles started.

Dr. Marseille was summoned and a while later he entered Jjoustra’s office, white as a sheet. Jamadji had told him that the dysentery patients had to be moved to the police building in the cassava fields. The building had to be cleaned this evening because the patients had to move the next day.

Joustra got up and joined Marseille to see Jamadji and they returned with serious expressions on their faces. I was told to enter Joustra’s office and listen very carefully to whatever would be said. Each barrack had to provide two women with buckets and brooms to clean the police building. Cleaning must be finished tonight and they can continue working through roll call. When I asked if the women were allowed to eat first, since it was almost dinnertime, Joustra answered imperiously that it didn’t matter at this point.

Promptly and cheerful the volunteers appeared and started scrubbing and cleaning, while some of them hauled water from the well.

Marseille oversaw the cleaning and at 6.45 PM everything was clean and the women could go home. The commandant tried to be funny by saying that anyone who had taken mangoes from the trees next to the new dysentery building would be beaten. And when some of them returned fearfully, because they all had taken mangoes from the heavily laden tree, he laughed and said: “It’s all right, go on home,” and he continued on his bike. Joustra, Marseille, and I returned to the camp thinking that there would be no roll call. We didn’t know Jamadji very well. When we had almost reached the Post, the roll call bell sounded. A short while later Joustra met Jamadji, she handed her rain hat to me and she accompanied Jamadji during roll call.

Marseille and I quickly stood in a ditch, bowed deeply, and stayed there until the commandant was out of sight. Only then did we venture out of the ditch.

Then came the move. The most seriously ill stayed in the camp, all the others moved into the cassava field houses, 5 per house. Since 5 cots could not be moved into the cottages, the patients laid down on woven mats over a floor that allows air passage through the slits of the boards. The hauling crew moved their possessions. Ada De Bruin in Jamadji’s car drove four patients at a time to their new quarters. However, Jamadji felt that there was too much driving back and forth. He stormed out of the fields on his bike and yelled that those who were well enough should walk. A group of eight walked.

Roos Minie discovered that Jamadji could fly into an unexpected rage. Yesterday evening, while Joustra and Jamadji inspected the camp during roll call, he asked her if there was any kerosene stored in the warehouse. She denied it, but this morning he discovered a drum of kerosene there. Angrily he went to the office and summoned Rosie who is responsible for the kerosene distribution. When she politely asked him why he had called her, he lashed out and hit her head viciously without saying anything. It happened so suddenly that tears welled up in Rosie’s eyes. Then Joustra is called and she and Roos roll the drum to the place of distribution, after Joustra is called to task also.

Because of this incident everyone is warned to stay away from Jamadji. While Joustra and Roos rolled the drum Joustra muttered that she wished that he would disappear to Makassar for a few days, so he could blow off some steam.

Since Noor had spent 10 days in the cassava field to rest, Joustra and Jamadji walked the evening rounds by themselves in Complex B. He asked Joustra if she had appointed someone to replace Noor and she said ‘no’. He then said that Mrs. Luyvendijk would replace Noor. The three of them have walked the rounds since yesterday. The commandant knows which women will fit the job, Jans is sturdy, independent, and finds her way calmly and resolutely.

Jamadji threatens and scolds anyone who dares to come near the cassava field, Dr. Goedbloed was attacked in such a way that she retreated in a hurry. Dr. Marseille has his hands full with 40 patients that are isolated in the field. He hauled everything that he needed to his station in the field and is constantly threatened by Jamadji’s stick. Those three men in our camp don’t have a cushy life.

Monday, December4, 1944. Yesterday evening at 6.30 PM it started to rain hard and it was questionable whether roll call would be held. When Jamadji was carefully approached his answer could be heard for miles around. “Who dares to ask, that is not allowed, it is rude!” While he was yelling he had such an evil look on his face that the person who approached him was scared to death. Roll cal did go on and the rain had stopped too.

This morning at 9.30 AM engine noises could be heard and I heard the commandant yell something. Not knowing what he said I alerted Joustra and the two of us went in to see him. “What is it?” he grumbled when he saw two of us standing in front of him. I told him that I didn’t understand what he said about the children. He said that Korteman’s kid had to take care of the alarm bell, and rode off on his bike. He was nervous and seemed to expect something that didn’t happen. Yesterday evening the Americans came and we saw search-lights and odd light signals.

Chabot: Dember 4. Something odd happened. During the night of the 4^th to the 5^th of December, about half an hour after midnight, a plane dropped something after it had started a dive. It had circled around twice already. Immediately the commandant went to look for ‘it’, and found something this morning. He said that the Americans had dropped a bomb about 4 km. from here on a native village that was dark. It did not explode. The natives had brought other bombs in some time ago, but this is very mysterious.

The rains started that same day and no planes fly over when it rains. Usually we spend time in the ditches during the day when planes come over. Air raid shelters have been dug for the school children, the hospital, the sewing room, etc.

Voskuil: Wednesday, December 6, 1944. During Monday night to Tuesday a lot of engine noise could be heard. It made all of us feel uneasy. We heard a hissing sound coming from the plane and then a thud. We waited anxiously for an explosion, but none came.

The commandant, who had been very nervous, conducted a search in the surrounding area, and the coolies were carrying, what looked like a gunnysack, hanging from a bamboo pole. Branches were put on top of it, and the commandant joined the coolies when they came to the fence. They disappeared in the direction of the cassava field. Nobody knew what was found.

This morning several bales of blue material arrived. The commandant said that everyone gets two new work suits. They will be made in the sewing room, and anyone who wants one can get a coupon. This is a new method to pester us. He wants to reward someone and gives her a coupon, and some time later he wants it back.

Yesterday morning I was summoned to the Post during a rain shower. I was in barrack no. 11 and hurried through the rain puddles and pouring rain to the office. I said good morning and asked him if he needed me. He said that it had already been done and I could go. Talking about pestering.

Thursday, December 7, 1944. Wietje Stuiver died this morning from amebic dysentery at 9.10 AM, another war baby. She will be buried at 4 PM.

When the truck came to the front to take no.2 to Makassar, the mysterious sack was in the truck. Jamadji jumped in the truck with a cigarette in his mouth and kicked the bag aside. A round metal colored object could be seen, it had a diameter of about 30 cm. The commandant was fussing with the extrusions, and we were afraid that it would go off. Of course it is possible that it was not a bomb at all, it only looked like one. During the day we learned that all the other incendiary bombs were also taken to Makassar.

Jamadji had told Joustra that the bomb was dropped 4 km away from the camp near a village that had no black out. The fact that he was messing with it while having a cigarette in his mouth didn’t mean anything, because only a healthy jolt would explode a bomb, according to him.

We received 24 letters from Java and 1 from Makassar.

Saturday, December 9, 1944. This day will live on in our memory. Joustra needed me in the office in a hurry. An immediate order is given that each barrack must supply two persons to haul the luggage of the dysentery patients. Apparently 22 of them returned to their barracks yesterday. When I returned after having announced the new order, I saw the commandant stand in the rear of the building with a stick in his hands. He bellowed that the head of barrack no. 1 had to come. I ran off to get the Mother Superior, who comes with me, scared to death. I announced the arrival of the Mother Superior, all the while looking for Joustra, who is coming. But Jamadji yells that she has to go, he didn’t call her, but Joustra maintains that the Mother Superior may not understand him. Again he yells at her to leave, she stays. He lifts up his stick to hit her, but then he starts to talk to the Mother Superior while Joustra listens quietly. He accuses the Mother that she had not educated Sister Rumolda correctly, that she should have educated her every day. Now Sister Rumolda, Els David, and Nita Gortmans must work in the Central Kitchen because they have not followed orders. He turns around brusquely and tells me to get them, quick. I run to the cassava field and find that Jamadji had already beaten the three.. Sister Rumolda was hit with a stick, Els was hit around her ears, and Nita, who fell to the ground when she was hit by the stick, also has an iron boot print against her chest.

They came with me and were made to stand in front of the Post with the Mother Superior. Nita could hardly stand upright because of the pain in her chest. Jamadji verbally abused them with his familiar short, gruff voice of anger, then they were sent to the kitchen. The Mother Superior returned to her barrack with tears in her eyes.

Then the order followed that all dysentery patients had to return to the cassava fields, and I needed to go by the barracks 3 times to gather volunteers to carry their luggage and the patients themselves.

Then the Mother Superior was summoned again and Jamadji told Joustra that since she was the head of her department, she was not to carry anything, but she was to oversee this operation. He had seen her drag a cot and it made him angry. But Joustra said that it was embarrassing not to help others. He insisted that as head she had to oversee everything.

Then he attacked the Mother again about Sister Rumolda. She had not done what he wanted her to do right away, and coolies were present. So, it was a face saving problem, like all the other beating parties.

Joustra then said that he had often fooled around and agreed to a lot, so that it was difficult to know when he really meant something, or when he did not.

Last night was the 5^th night that we heard airplanes and bombing raids, in the cassava field they heard the sirens of Sunguminassa.

The afternoon was just as eventful as the morning had been. At about 5 PM Mrs. Westerveld came in to the office to tell us that she was to be punished because she had gone to the cassava fields, which was strictly forbidden. Why did she do it? Because her sick child was in dire need of a chamber pot. Joustra told her to sit down because she had no idea for how long she would have to stand once Jamadji was back. Joustra had hardly said it when we heard him bellow, he had sneaked in so that nobody noticed him. He shot forward with his stick and ordered Mrs. Westerveld to raise her arms, and was ready to start hitting her. But Joustra told him not to do it; he shoved her aside and wanted to continue. Joustra again intervened. He put the stick on the floor and started in on Mrs. Westerveld, however anything was better than being beaten. He asked her where she worked and promptly told her to change her job. She was to join Van Diejen to help with the vegetables, which is a heavier chore now that the rains are here. Then she could return with Hermie Nanning, her barrack leader, back to the barrack.

We hardly had recovered from this scare when Joustra herself announces at 4 PM that anyone over 10 must deliver 200 flies by 5.30 PM at the command post. But at 5 PM I saw many turn the flies over at the first aid station where the reverend took over the duties of Dr. Marseille who was in the cassava fields with the dysentery patients. Just when the Reverend Westerveld had finished and he had gone home, Jamadji told Joustra that the flies should be brought in. Joustra came to me and told me to have everyone turn in the flies. So I told her that the flies had already been turned in to the Reverend. Joustra said that that was impossible. I contradicted her and Joustra angrily said that it was not the way she had instructed the women to take care of the flies. She then said that the reverend had to bring the bucket with the flies and the list of people. And I had to tell those that had not delivered the flies to bring them along. When I returned I saw Joustra sit on a step of the first aid clinic while Jamadji stood on another step with a stick in his hands. Everybody showed him the flies and dumped them in the bucket while she wrote down the names of those that had brought in the flies. When he realized that several persons had others take their flies in stead of doing it themselves, he announced that everybody had to bring the flies in themselves. When things didn’t go fast enough I was sent to tell the women that the flies had to be turned in first before they had dinner. At 6.45 PM a new order came, each person over ten had to catch 300 flies tomorrow.

When the OK was given for a Protestant service, the Catholics were denied a religious service because they were being punished for the sins of Sister Romulda.

In the evening The Mother Superior and Mother Antonino went to speak to Jamadji. They talked for at least an hour and in the end a Catholic service was allowed, and Sister Romulda and the two nurse’s aides were forgiven. To recuperate they also were given a weeklong holiday. Poor Nita has a bruised breastbone and is bandaged, while Els David is deaf in one ear because of being hit around the ears.

Sunday, December 10, 1944. The commandant sent a message to Mrs. Berg that she could see her child, who is very ill with dysentery. He is 3 years old and very precocious. Yesterday he said that he had been in the cassava field for two days and still had not eaten any cassava root. He wasted down to a wisp from being a little tub.

Tuesday, December 12, 1944. The commandant left on his bike holding a stick in his hand. He is looking for trouble, look out! It is odd that he always grows a mustache when he is in a vile mood. A short while later he had found something.

Nine ladies from barracks 2 and 3 came to the Post with their washing tubs. They were hauling water from a well close to barrack no. 2 where coolies were working. They should have known that they could not do that, Jamadji said. The tubs are confiscated, Jamdji is taking 2 of them and the other seven are taken to Noor’s storage place.

Some people heard cannon fire at sea all morning long.

A little before 8 PM I was called to the office. Dr Marseille and Els Trip were writing at a table in the front room while Jamadji stood. When they had finished writing the commandant dried the paper against a lamp and affixed his seal. I had to take the paper by all the barracks and stressed that these orders came directly from the commandant. These were his new instructions: 1. Dress the children warmly so that they won’t catch cold during the rainy season.

2. Everybody has to wear sandals after bathing. (Where do we get sandals?)

3. All doors and windows must be closed when we go to bed.

4. Early to bed, and instruction no. 5: Turn off the lights at 10 PM.

Every barrack leader must read this carefully and pass it on to the others.

I returned a little before 9 PM to the, seemingly deserted, office with the announcement book. It was pitch dark. To make certain that no one was in the office I said: “Goodnight, Sir.” A voice came from the dark asking if everyone had signed the book. I confirmed it and he thanked me.

Wednesday, December 13, 1944. This morning Jeltje Berg was interred, he died yesterday afternoon. When I saw the Sisters Berg and Onvlee exit the cassava field I knew that the end was near. Little Jeltje was lucid to the end.

Judging from the commandant’s ‘Hai, hai, hai’s’ high ranking visitors must have arrived. They were part of the military staff in Makassar. They had brought some letters with them: 3 from Java, and 16 for the German and Canadian ladies that were stamped with an English seal. One letter from Kobe showed a return address of Deutsches General Consulat, Kobe, Japan. Passed by censor. Bitte durschenden an….

At 4 PM Ann Herdes was told to come to the office. When she got there Jamadji rode off on his bike and told her to wait. She waited for 45 minutes and wondered why she was there. Didn’t she bow low enough? Finally he came. From afar he told her to enter the office which she did. Once inside he jovially told her to sit down. She heaved a sigh of relief, there was nothing to fear. He asked her about a Christmas party, he wanted a fun party with a lot of noise. This startled Ann and she explained that it was not a time where noisy parties were proper, we were grieving for the children that had died recently. He countered that it was exactly the reason why a good party should be held. In Japan they did have fun parties around Christmas time.

Tomorrow at 10 AM all the complex leaders, the school superintendent, the Father, and the Reverend were to meet to discuss the plans of Jamadji.

In the evening Jamadji attended the roll call and coming to barrack no. 11 he said that no one could go out any more because they didn’t wear sandals during roll call. Yesterday’s order specified that any one who had finished her work must wear sandals after her bath.

Another rule was written down in the book; when the sun shines as many items as possible must be put out in the sun. And another one: all children under ten must wear socks in the evening. If they don’t have them leggings will do.

It was a good thing that he didn’t hear the roar of laughter when the last rule was read. Nobody had socks and no one knew where to get the leggings. He had failed to mention that.

Corten: Dec. 11. A request is made for a certain medication for Mrs. Sollewijn. We don’t know what it is for but it is nowhere to be found.

The paper is out. Because it was Christmas we printed with red ink. We couldn’t use the type writer.

We have to catch 200 flies each.

Voskuil: Thursday, December 14, 1944. If I go through another day like this one I will be gray ere long.

Just before we were to meet to discuss the plans for a Christmas party, Joustra was called in to see Jamadji. It seemed that something had been written on a piece of mica and he wanted to know if she knew who had done that. Of course she didn’t. Zus van Goor, who headed the mica department, was called in, but she didn’t know who wrote on the piece of mica either. The identity of the writer had to be known before noon. After the meeting at 10 AM, I had to go by the barracks to give the message to the leaders. When I wanted to enter the first aid clinic at noon, the high school girls were lined up in front of the office, and when they saw me they yelled that Joustra wanted to see me. I ran over and was told to get the 4 ladies who had been punished for being noisy when they split mica. Since they were put to work in the dysentery hospital in the cassava fields, I made sure that I was to go there. The commandant bellowed for me to hurry. I first went to barrack no. 13 to pick up Soeters, then to the dysentery hospital for Kloprogge and Sien Gerritsen, and finally to barrack no. 3 to get Rie van Breugel. Then the interrogation began. Zus van Goor read on the piece of mica: “Help us in these difficult times, help us out of our distress. Did one of you write this?” All 4 answered: “No.” Joustra asked if they had seen someone else write which they denied. Jamadji asked what they had said and Joustra told him. Jamadji was convinced that they were the culprits. He said that before those four started working in the mica place the children worked in a good environment, but that their hearts had been blackened ever since. He was sharp tongued when he said this. Then he sat down and blew clouds of cigarette smoke. When he saw several people standing around the dining halls he told Ann Herdes to get them. Zera and Wonnie Paul had to join the four that had been accused and stand in the sun with them. They stood there from 1 PM to 8.30 PM. There had been many more persons who watched and Lina Paul was furious that they were not included. She announced that from now on she would stop being upright and honest.

Jamadji asked if there were people in the hospital who had also split mica, and Joustra answered wearily that there probably were. Then, how many were there in the dysentery barracks had split mica. She didn’t know, then who would know. Joustra answered that nobody knew since there was never a list of people who had split mica. He then swore at Joustra, and told the women who had been standing in the sun to go home. When the two Paul girls also wanted to go he kept them until 9.30 PM. Joustra went into her office and when I asked her if there was anything else I could do she told me in a tired voice that I could get a bite to eat. I ate as fast as I could and returned to the office, but Joustra had already left. I found Joustra talking to Pfeifer and Joustra said that she didn’t want to be disturbed. When Pfeifer left Joustra told me that she had nothing to do for me. I was going to join Pfeifer on the way out, but changed my mind and returned to Joustra. I asked her if she had problems and she confirmed it. There was going to be a meeting of leaders in a short while and for me to run along. I then understood that Joustra was being replaced as head of the camp. During the meeting Joustra would submit her resignation. The father and the reverend also were present and suggested that Joustra take a week vacation in the cassava field. Jamadji agreed and would leave it up to Joustra if she wanted to retain her position when she came back. And Jamadji insisted that she could only be a titular head. She could not concern herself with minor matters; those had to be handled by the barrack leaders. She should not intervene in certain matters just to placate a few in order to prevent a fight, but let matters take their course, even if it would raise a lot of trouble. If she could guarantee that she could govern that way his presence would not be needed. She also had to ask for advise from the men in the camp, and he cited a Japanese saying that ‘you knew it was there without smelling it’. She had to be the head of the camp.

During the week that Joustra was on vacation Pfeifer took over and she seemed to be a permanent replacement.

Letters to the English mission were dated from 1942, and the last one was from September 1943. Mrs. Marsh learned that everything was plentiful in England, and her family there heard regularly from her sister in China. How did these letters get here? The morning visitors had brought them with them. When Jamadji passed along barrack no. 8 he pointed Mrs. Deibler out to the visitors and said: “America.” The visitor in front stepped forward, took his cap of, and bowed deeply, while the one in the back looked her up and down and sneered.

More visitors are expected tomorrow at 9 AM, and the women who pull grass must haul bales of blue fabric out of the mica house to the workplace of Mrs. Appelman. The visitors will visit the mica splitting station and 150 children will be working there. (I worked there often.-TS)(Me too.-OY)

Friday, 12/15/1944. Again, there was a lot of trouble. The visit went well, we bowed until our heads reached our knees. We did very well. Jamadji made sure that the sewing room, the mica room, and the 2 Japs were present when the visitors left. He entered the office beaming from ear to ear, and everything was moonshine and roses until he saw Mrs. Weidema make rice flour in barrack no. 8. How did she get the rice? She must have stolen it. The rice is taken to the office, then the barrack leader is called, and then a nun from the diet kitchen who had given the rice to Mrs. Weidema. Then Mrs. van der Noen of the central kitchen, Dr. Marseille, and Dr. Goedbloed had to come. The office is filled with witnesses and the accused. Jamadji bellows against Mrs. Weidema, who, while crying, roars back. We don’t know who yells louder.

In the meantime the ladies are waiting with coupons in their hands to have them stamped, so that they can get clothing, sandals, needles, yarn, etc. Nothing can be had without coupons and Jamadji himself wants to stamp the coupons. Mrs. Deibler is allowed to return to her barrack, but she is hardly there when she has to come back. Then she is sent to pick up the mortars that were used to pound the rice to flour, and when she brings them the commandant has left. He went to the children’s hospital where he will donate, at his request, blood to Jantje Egmont who is seriously ill. Mrs. Navest would have been the donor, but he heard about a request for blood it and volunteered his blood. When he was called he let everybody go home. On the way he took off his shirt and pants and entered like a hero. When he came out he beamed with pride, and because he was embarrassed, which he always is under such circumstances, he entered the Post by a side door. Mrs. Deibler was still waiting and he let her go.

Saturday, 12/16/1944. Yesterday morning Chris Grijzen and Elly Seth Paul helped Joustra move her luggage to the little house in the cassava field. Joustra didn’t know how she would get her food, but Jamadji had taken care of that. He had ordered Mrs. Verhaef, who always cooked for him, to also cook for Joustra. She would be a bit spoiled during her stay there. It was noted in the logbook that Joustra would take a short leave of absence after 1 and ½ years of faithful service and Mrs. Pfeifer would temporarily replace her. Also, four ladies of the sewing room also deserved a vacation after 1 ½ year of work. They were: Oosterhout, Dekens, Niggel, and Wijker. Then the commandant would hand out one mug of sugar in exchange for 1,000 flies.

When I asked Jamadji if I could show the new orders to Joustra he concurred in a friendly manner. One of his orders was that no one was to enter the cassava field or come near the dysentery ward. Would I always be free to go there? Everything is turning in Joustra’s favor. Last Thursday her peers were judging her and Jamadji felt that she held too much power. Zus van Goor countered that nobody dared to do anything because he was so hot headed. He didn’t have much to say, but insisted that he should have known who worked in the mica department. Joustra had to be responsible 100% for anything that happened in the camp. When he was asked how that was possible he said that there was a time that she had everything in hand. But she was tired and needed a rest. Joustra mentioned that matters had not been smooth between her and Jamadji for the past weeks, and she also felt that the camp didn’t support her all the way. There was always friction, but it increased during the last weeks and it made her unsure of herself. “ I couldn’t make the right decisions any more. Different meanings were given to certain situations and certain actions were interpreted wrong. It seemed that, no matter what I did, nothing seemed right. It crippled me.”

Corten: Dec. 16. Aunt Jo Koekelkoren has died. Mom and aunt Wies helped to place her neatly in a coffin. We are all broken up about it. Henk would first stay with us, but remained with the Zinn family; they always cared for him.

Another request is made for a specific kind of medicine. Would there really be people who have it in their possession but won’t give it up? We will get more shots. Ugh!

Voskuil: Sunday, 12/17/1944. Another row about rice flour. Jamadji saw that rice was pounded in barrack no. 8 and promptly summoned Scheerder, Den Hond, Deibler, the head of the of the kitchen warehouse, and the leader of barrack no. 8. He insisted that, after the Weidema affair, all rice flour making must be stopped. All the rice and rice products must be turned in. The only reason for this strict order is that he fears a shortage of rice and wants to prevent any misuse. All his actions stem from a deeper rationale, but because he never explains his actions the people feel that he exercises his right to be a total dictator.

He showed a different side when he accepted the 1,000 flies that the children brought into his office. He beamed when he traded sugar in for the flies. Hermie Nanning wrote down who the recipients were, and how much sugar was handed out. He started giving the little kids a mug of sugar for the flies they brought in. Older children received ¼ or ½ cup of sugar, even although they had just as many flies. There were very tiny kids who showed up with an empty mug but a laughing Jamadji too, gave them sugar. With the coupons that Hermie made out they could go to the warehouse and pick up their sugar. When a bucket was filled with flies Marseille would empty it on the garbage heap, as usual. But this time the flies represented money, or rather sugar, and the kids would quickly go to the heap and pick up the dead flies and put them in a can, to take them back to the commandant to trade for sugar.

All of a sudden the fly business started to bore Jamadji and he got on his bike and left. He left Marseille with a bunch of crying kids who stood there with their 1,000 flies and no sugar. As soon as the commandant left the warehouse and the books closed.

Jamadji did not pursue the mica case, he felt vindicated since Joustra took an absence of leave. But I miss her spirit, her insight, and her perseverance.

Yesterday evening a beautiful sports car appeared with 3 Japs. Immediately we thought that the Gestapo had come, but fortunately these men were not dangerous. They drank a glass of coffee with Jamadji and disappeared to the cassava field where they picked up a few items out of one of the storage places there, then returned to Makassar. Even after they had been gone for several hours several persons asked if they had left yet. They were that scared!

Last night the sewing room was broken in to and spools of yarn, khaki fabric, and 2 raincoats were gone. Jamadji and a policeman searched the premises for clues, but he doesn’t want the Japanese cutter to know about the theft. Otherwise it would have to be brought to the attention of the authorities in Makassar, and he wants to wash his own dirty laundry.

This morning it was announced that there will be a holiday on the 1^st and 2^nd Christmas Day, and on the 1^st and the 2^nd of January. During those days the camp will receive extra sugar for peanut candy, bread, and our personal use, peanuts, coffee, rice, and SOAP! The camp will also get 2 pigs and 500 coconuts. We couldn’t believe our ears!

When I took the logbook in to him he made notations where items were written not written down in an orderly manner. That is not allowed anymore. Everything should be neatly entered between the lines.

Jo Koekelkoren died at midnight and shall be buried at 5 PM. She had been ill for 1 and ½ years and tried to evade her nurse. She was only 38, but was totally worn out. Mrs. Zinn, who had been her friend for years, got permission from Jamadji to notify Jo’s husband of her death. She left a boy of 10. In Malino she always had high hopes that the war would be over on the 1^st of February 1943.

Yesterday Jamadji was present when the packages were searched before they were sent away to husbands. He wouldn’t allow certain packages to pass if he didn’t trust the enclosed poems, but he was inconsistent with his rules.

Chabot: 12/20/44/ No one ever thought that we would spend another Christmas here, our third Christmas in internment, the fourth one without Henk.

The monsoons started with a vengeance in December, and a pall of dejection hangs over the camp. Not so much because of the length of time that we’ve been imprisoned, but because of our lingering overall physical deterioration. We used to go through periods of sickness and small epidemics, but they always passed. For more than a year nobody died among the 1,700 internees, but towards the end of this dry season 6 children under the age of 3 died within three weeks. The children died of some kind of stomach flu (enteritis). Four of these children lived in our barrack. Their minds were clear to the end but they suffered a lot of pain, because their intestines would not function anymore. Boudie is 3 ½, and he probably came down with the same thing, but he is a sturdy boy, and he came out on top. When the 6^th child fell ill, 2 Japanese doctors came, but they were also helpless. It is odd that those ten children in the cemetery are all boys. Watching someone loose the child she waited to have for 5 years, is harder than knowing that 100 men die each day. On top of these deaths, a lot of people fell victim to amebic dysentery, more than 100 so far. This bothers the commandant very much. During one of the first rainy days he vacated the stone houses in the middle of the camp, where about 15 dysentery cases were treated. He had a long bamboo barrack built in the cassava field where all the patients were moved. It is about 15 minutes away from here, and no one is allowed to come near the building. It is difficult not to think about the possibility that Boukie or Roek could go there every time they go potty. Conditions there are awful. There used to be policemen living there in small houses on poles. The dysentery patients now use those uncovered latrines. The building was not near finished when the first patients were moved in. There is no concrete floor and no lights are allowed at night because of the existing black out. During the dark rainy nights the nurses must empty the chamber pots in the latrines that are 3 minutes away from the ward. The catering of meals also causes headaches. The root of the problem stems from the countless flies that are attracted by the hundreds of pigs on the hog farm. Every Saturday and Sunday anyone over the age of ten must catch 200 flies. The commandant very often oversees the delivery of these flies. Something to look forward to on the weekends. Jamadji offered a mug of sugar to anyone who could catch 1,000 flies. The smallest children have no problems getting their catch. Boudie is incredibly handy with the broom which he uses to swat the flies.

To supply us with some diversion the commandant wants us to celebrate Christmas and the New Year, ‘noisy like a fair’. One good thing came of it, he is allowing extra sugar rations, soap, peanuts, rice, 2 pigs, etc. Still, the ‘noise’ will be lacking. I am still grateful for the pamphlets that came down in October. If we had not seen those we still would be in the dark about our situation. They provided us with our only hope. Holland probably will celebrate Christmas in freedom.

Here are a few examples of camp politics. A few weeks ago the commandant summarily dismissed Mrs. Joustra who had been our leader for 15 months. He called a meeting of all the heads and the 3 men (men don’t think like women, according to Jamadji). It was apparent that he wanted the meeting to sit in judgment of Joustra, and although nobody raised objections, it was clear that Jamadji wanted someone else to lead. He felt that she outmaneuvered him whenever he felt that some of us needed to be punished. The truth is that the camp’s business is running smoothly and Jamadji has time left to stick his nose in matters where it doesn’t belong.

He had 800 boards put on the wall of his office. Each board has a name on it of a working person. Illnesses are reported every morning. Joustra proved to be too powerful in this environment, she was used to make her own decisions. If someone needs work clothes, her baggage is searched to see if she really needs it, and when it is decided that she does, she gets a coupon that will then be stamped by the commandant. ‘Pa’ has had a logbook for himself where he writes all the directives which then must be signed by the leaders of the camp and himself. It was Joustra who took care of this matter. A few days after Joustra was dismissed, Jamadji let it be known that she had done an excellent job and that she was now enjoying a vacation in the cassava field.

A week later he called her back but since she still felt that he was irritated she preferred to stay out of the limelight. ‘Pa’, however, had other ideas until it became too much for him and he dismissed her again. The reason for her dismissal this time was that he had summoned two women, and asked them about their husbands in Pare-Pare, their children, relatives in Holland, etc. They didn’t understand why he posed all those questions and became alarmed. When they asked him if there was something wrong with their husbands he denied it. That same evening he told the complex leaders that the husbands were killed during a bombing raid. Apparently Japanese women would have understood it right away. At the end of December it became known that there had been more casualties in Pare-Pare, but the names would not be announced until January.

Corten: Dec. 21. Tineke Sponhof, one of the babies in barrack no. 2 is ill. The whole barrack is alarmed. Everybody cleans their nook even better, and the little ones are carefully watched.

Voskuil: Friday, 12/22/1944. Hansje Rotti, a 3- year old boy died. The commandant announced that the internment would be held at 2 PM.

When I visited Joustra this morning she asked me to do 2 things: to ask the commandant when she could talk to him, and to get his permission to attend the funeral.

I happened to meet him at a quiet place on his bike and asked if I could ask him a few things. It was unusual for him to get off his bike, because ordinarily you had to run after him while he continued his ride. He gave his approval to both questions of Joustra, and after she attended the funeral she saw him in his office.

Pfeifer is ill, Noor told us that she had a injection and stayed in bed for the day. But when I approached the office I saw Pfeiffer walking in from the other side. I asked her why she wasn’t in bed, and she said that the pains were less and that she would continue working until she fell down. She couldn’t stick with it though and went home in the morning telling me that Hermie would take care of matters. I told her that I thought that Noor should do that and not Hermie.

Mary Schuts received a letter from her husband in Java. He and her brother are in the same internment camp and he wrote that her brother writes to Holland.

Saturday, 12/23/1944. Joustra visited the commandant for 5 minutes yesterday. She had asked him when she could return, and he answered that it would be a few days more, because he still needed to think things over. He would let her know by Christmas; and now she waits.

Jamadji left for Pare-Pare this morning. Yesterday evening he had Pfeifer compose a letter in which she had to write that everything is all right. This raised a ruckus among the women who read it. We’re NOT doing well, 100 are in the dysentery barracks and 9 babies are buried within a 9-week period because of lower GI problems. Those who are mending from serious illnesses can’t regain their strength because there is nothing substantial to eat.

The women who get news from their husbands in Pare don’t trust the news and they feel betrayed.

The commandant returns in the evening from Pare. This was a record trip considering the fact that he had to attend to matters in Makassar too. He complained of a headache but that didn’t prevent him from meddling in camp affairs. He gave 4 letters from Java to Pfeifer, 2 of them were for the nuns. Then he brought a crate with things for Buffaert and Lucas, clothing for the Father, and a bottle of wine for the church services. Then a letter of thanks from the camp leader who acknowledged receipt of 500 pairs of pants, and 2 bags full of presents which arrived in good order, with thanks to Jamadji. The Reverend Bikker had signed it.

Sunday, December 24. By order of the commandant the vacation and Joustra and Annetje Hemsing has come to an end. When Pfeifer and I read this we cheered.

When Joustra returned and arranged her luggage back home, the first thing she did was let the commandant know that she was back. He told her to wait until he sent for her.

Monday, 12/25 Yesterday afternoon Tineke Sponhof died at 4.30 PM, she was 2 years and 5 months old. She was buried at 12.30 PM. Just before the funeral it was announced that Mrs. Sollewijn had died from dysentery. She had been ill for a long time. She was 36. In the native villages the percentage of dysentery cases rises from 60% to 70%. In the military camp in Makassar it is 20% to 25%. In this camp it was never higher that 7%, and there are signs that even this amount is going down. We can thank the harsh regulations of the commandant for the decrease in dysentery cases. Apparently killing flies did the job, among other things. But it is odd how some people feel about these matters. One person said that the commandant should be glad that there were so few cases, to which I responded that it was due to his diligence that things were not worse.

This morning at 7.30 AM the commandant wished everybody a merry Christmas and pardoned everyone who had been punished. Those pardoned had to report to the Post.

This morning Noor told me that Jamadji told her the day after he had beaten up Sister Rumolda, Els, and Nita, that he was genuinely sorry for what he had done. He repeatedly told her how embarrassed and sorry he was. What did the Dutch women think of him!

Mrs. Sollewijn was buried at 5.30 PM, Mrs. Bartstra will take care of her 2 sons.

Jamadji is going to give a party; the big question is who will be invited. Noor went to ask him, but he told her that he was the one in charge. When I was called to the office a list was waiting, it included all the office personnel, including me. I should have been asked because I had to gather the signatures of the 53 that were invited. It was less pleasant when I saw that Joustra had not been invited. When I approached Jamadji he curtly said that she was not the head anymore. Only when Noor came forward to plead for Joustra did he sanction her coming to the dinner party.

It was a very pleasant and delicious meal. At exactly 6.30 PM Jamadji walked in with the Father and the doctor. He called out to start eating and to sit down. He ordered the men to shoo away the flies that graced the platters of food. Then he signaled that dinner could start. The Father saw to it that the platters went around the table, and the commandant gave the trays to Mrs. Appelman so that she could pass them on. Then he subtly withdrew.

Wednesday, 12/27.This is another emotional day. Pfeifer enters the office with the logbook of the commandant and tells me to stand on my head, because she will be gone. The log states that Mrs. Pfeifer will go on a short vacation, Mrs. Joustra who will take her position immediately will replace her. Mrs. van Goor will be the director of the high school, and Mrs. Herdes will become the complex leader of block no. A. Mrs. Klaus will be put to work in the sewing room.

I took the orders to Joustra and told her to read them. When she asked me if she could go to work right away, I told her she could.

It pleased Joustra that everyone was glad to have her back, but things seem to have changed a lot, and it seems that the old days are gone. The reason for her vacation, her state of exhaustion, which had left her fleetingly while she was absent, has returned; she was still exhausted. It is as if her resiliency has left her and will never return. The friction between her and Jamadji is unnerving. Her attempt to establish a dialogue with him is ignored.

Thursday, 12/28. We pass another milestone in the history of the logbook. Starting today the commandant must see everything that is written into the book, and it cannot be passed around before he put his seal on the messages. Joustra’s solution: pass around as few messages as possible, that way there’s not much that he can undo.

It is decided that the usual Dutch fritters that are passed around during the celebration of the New Year will be made by a variety of people in the Central Kitchen. Each barrack must send someone to make the rice flour, and some one who will do the deep frying. Specifics need to be discussed with Mrs. den Hond, the head of the C.K. At this time the plans for the Christmas tea also are made.

It’s been a few weeks that the barrack leaders and the crew leaders had to submit names of those who are ill before 10 AM. This information is then verified on the large board on the wall. The board with the name of the ill person is taken down and put on the table. Those that have been punished will get a red line on their board. That way Jamadji can see in a wink who is ill and who is bad.

At 4 PM I am told to get Mrs. van Goor, quickly. I run to get her. What’s going on now? After 15 minutes Van Goor appears with a beaming face. He has named her the director of ‘Park and Rec”. He shoved a Japanese-English dictionary under her nose, and underlined the words civilization and literature. She will be in charge of lectures, cabarets, fairs, etc. Lots of fun for her and the camp. She will begin to organize the party on the 1^st of January. She told me to tell Mrs. Den Hond about the date, but Mrs. Den Hond took a dim view of that day and she became angrier when I told her that Van Goor had said that everybody can relax on the 2^nd. “What about our relaxation?” Mrs. Den Hond said. To prevent a possible row I suggested that Van Goor and Den Hond have a meeting. During that meeting it was decided that the party would be held on the 2^nd. Being the head of the C.K. Mrs. Den Hond is one of the most powerful people in the camp.

Friday, 12/29. Oet Neeb and Annetje Noors were called to the office by the commandant, but he let them cool their heels for almost two hours before he finally called Oet in. He asked her why she didn’t do any work outside her regular chores. She told him that she had a bad heart, but she looks healthy and sturdy. He didn’t like that at all and told her that she would have to work with her old crew, the garden crew of Mrs. Weidner.

Then Annetje was called in, but when Oet left she pretended that she kicked someone. Jamadji saw this and he became enraged, so when he saw that Annetje’s attitude was one of defiance, he hit her twice on the left side of her head and twice on the right side. Her nose began to bleed, and since she had to stand at attention she could not wipe her face. She looked awful. Later, when Jamadji saw Oet standing in the hall, he asked her if she was not embarrassed that someone else was hit instead of her. But in the meantime he left Annetje standing, and when it was time for dinner she was still standing there. When Annetje was hit this morning Joustra went into the office where all this took place, but Jamadji brusquely told her to leave. She stayed but he repeated himself in such an angry and threatening manner that she had to go. After Joustra left Noor went in, but she too left. Annetje stood until 6.30 PM. The next day Jamadji had the following entered in his logbook: the commandant hit Annetje Noors at 9 AM, and left her standing in his office.

The commandant issued an order: at 4 PM all complex leaders. the heads of schools, Luyendijk, the Father, Reverend, Scheerder, and Den Hond are to assemble for a meeting. The party on January 1 was discussed over the protests of Mrs. Den Hond. The more noise is planned the better, the crazier and funnier the better, so thought Jamadji….

Saturday, 12/30. The trouble started at 9 AM, when Lekkerkerker came to tell that 2 of her workers were ill. The commandant said that enough people were in bed and to choose one of them. Then he asked what Mrs. Verhagen did. Mrs. Lekkerkerker said that she worked a little. Jamadji had her come in and asked what kind of work she did. She said that she worked in the garden, but that she was not strong enough to resume garden work. He asked her what was wrong, and she said that she had problems with her lungs. Then he called on Goedbloed and scolded her for allowing Mrs. Verhagen to stay off work. He said that he was the one to decide who should work, then he threatened the doctor to never do anything like this again, because it is wartime and everybody had to work. Then he told Verhagen to work in the kitchen to boil rice, and she would never get a day off again.

He then summoned the leaders of barracks no. 3, 2, 9, and 13. He had them move 10 people from each barrack to another one. When the people had been moved he asked how many spaces were left.

A while later when the announcements were made the alarm sounded, and when I ran back to the office I could see in the distance that several women were being hit because they were late getting into their shelters. Lina Paul was hit so hard that her glasses flew off her nose and she almost fell to the ground. While she was trying to steady herself she inadvertently touched his cap so that it almost fell off his head. This made him even angrier and he ordered the late comers to go to the office. When they got there he started hitting Grandmother Zimmerman with a bamboo stick and called out for her to go home. Then he left and returned with a heavy club. He told Lina Paul to stand with her hands up. He started to beat on her; she screamed and walked off with her hands on her rear. She cried out to me that she would not return, that he is hitting her hard, and that she didn’t do anything. The commandant then called out to Lina to come back, but she refused. He told me to bring her back, but I feigned deafness. Then Joustra came and he told her to bring Lina to him. Lina refused to go, still jumping up and down of the pain. Joustra was white as a sheet and apologized to Lina that there was nothing that she could do. (According to Lina Paul, she and Cor Semawie helped Grandma Zimmerman to the shelter, but they didn’t go fast enough for Jamadji. He yelled to them to go faster, but they couldn’t go faster because Grandma couldn’t do it. -TS). Mercilessly he told Lina that she would get 3 more lashes, after the 5^th one she staggered home, her broken glasses in her hand. (Lina Paul was black and blue, with red, blue, and yellow streaks. She couldn’t sit for weeks or lay down on her back because of the pain, she told me. TS).

Then Jamadji started in on Bellemee who wasn’t there when the alarm sounded. She said that she was cleaning up her quarters. She had no business doing that; her place was at the bell. She trembled with fear, because he was still holding on to the club, and when he was in this mood there wasn’t anything you could do to placate him.

The first alarm was barely over when the second one started. The all clear was not sounded until quite a bit later. Several Lockheeds came over several times and veered off in one direction. (What could be holding their interest?) Jamadji’s shirt was sopping wet, an indication of extreme nervousness.

In the afternoon letters were delivered from Pare-Pare and Makassar. He had Hermie handle the mail and not Joustra. Then he announced that everybody had to help Van Goor for the party of January 1, there also had to be a Punch and Judy show.

After roll call he asked Joustra if she had punished the 3 he had beaten yet. She planned to do that after roll call she said. He called her stupid that she still didn’t know how he wanted things to be handled. His voice sounded abusive and abrasive.

The letters from Pare-Pare seemed to be depressing, the men were not in Pare any more, but lived alongside some inland river.

Sunday, 12/31/1944. Trouble. There was a reason for the somber mood of the men in Pare-Pare. Today the commandant published the contents of a card that was sent by the head of Pare to the head of Kampili. The card contained the names of 34 men that had died in Pare, among others Gerrit de Graaf, Lagas, Vermaes, Boeken Kruger, the reverend Verdenius, the reverends Werkman and Bonnecke, and numerous priests. Mrs. Bikker, who had been so happy with her husband’s letter last week, is in the dumps because someone else had written in his place.

The commandant announced that anyone who does not follow his orders will get 5 lashes.

Mrs. L. has been fired as barrack leader and teacher; she will be winnowing rice as of 1 January. Joustra is the leader of barrack 6 and also the camp leader. All this happened at 10.30 AM. When I arrived in the office at 11.30 AM Jamdji was running around like a madman. Joustra had asked him to rescind the orders for a party on the 1^st of January on behalf of the camp, there was too much sadness. He was furious, let those sad women help themselves. But he wrote in the book that there wouldn’t be a party on January 1 and that all the extra food will be fed to the hogs.

When I talked to Joustra she said that she was being blamed, but if she had allowed the party to go on, she would have been blamed too. She considered herself the black sheep and had offered her resignation but Jamadji refused it. He told her that she should not think of herself but of the camp as a whole.

Later in the morning Halewijn asked me what the problem was, because Jamadji had asked her about a conversation she had with Joustra. I asked if there was something special about that conversation and she said that they only talked about particular things.

When I passed barrack no. 6 I stopped to talk to Joustra. She told me that she was fired. He yelled at her that she didn’t have to go to work that she should go back to the barrack. “Everything is the way it was when I left,” she said.

Later on Jamadji called on the Father and the Reverend and asked them if Joustra had consulted them about rescinding the plans for the party. They knew nothing about it. The commandant then said that Joustra had asked to stop the party on behalf of the whole camp, yet no one seemed to know anything about it. She should have consulted the heads of the other departments. After that he told them about his own problems, how he had that list of the deceased in Pare for a week and didn’t know what to do. To first have a celebration and then announce the deaths? He decided to make the deaths known, but that should not mean that the party should not go on. At least 80% of the camp could still celebrate. He called a meeting of all the heads and Mrs. Valderpoort. He asked each one of them if they had been consulted about the party. Nobody had. Then Joustra was called in and he told her that she was fired and would become the head of the mica department, and she should move to barrack no. 13. Valderpoort would take over as leader, Jans Luyendijk would become leader of barrack no. 6, and the festivities will go on as planned. Joustra could leave right away.

Her board on the wall received a red line, like all those that were punished. This is the thanks for 1 and ½ year of volunteering her body and her nerves. Yesterday she said that she thanked me for all the help I had given her. We had had our problems because I was not the easiest person to get along with. She wished me the best with Mrs. Valderpoort and hoped that I would help her the way I had helped her. Then we parted.

Jamadji had assigned Noor to be no. 2, but she declined. Jans Luyendijk too doesn’t want to be the leader of barrack no.6, she is part of the 35 people from Sumba.

Yesterday the commandant told us that Pare had been bombed twice and is in ruins. There were many who died and we can now figure out who died of dysentery and who became a victim of the bombing. The men of Pare now live 7 km away from Pare on a pig farm next to a river. They have almost no clothes and that’s why we sent them 500 pairs of pants.

During the evening sermon the Father said: “I am used to go through life alone, and smile while I suffer.”

This evening there is a party in our barrack. The clock rang 12 times and we wished each other a Happy New Year. We expect freedom to come this year, and we feel closer than ever, also because we suffered so much together.

Chabot: 12/31/1944.

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