Valderpoort:
This morning we started to work as usual and we didn’t have an inkling
of what awaited us. I was busy in the office. About
Several small houses were not hit, one of them was 5b, and this time
several others and I could save some of our belongings. A bomb did come through
the roof and landed right next to my bed, but it did not explode, and another
one that came down on one corner of the roof did start to burn, but Mrs. Gerth
just swept it off. The houses 1a, 1b, 4a, 4b, 7a, 7b, 8, and 9, which was the
Club, were severely damaged, but did not catch fire, so that the Ambon people
were able to save some of their things. Alas, all of the victims, except for
two, were
In the meantime all the wounded had been carried to the canyon by Japanese soldiers and the ladies of the guard, and since the clinic and the underground shelter had been spared, some medication was available to render first aid at least.
Baby Thiessen, Berthe Ploeger, Freddy Paul, Mrs. Wahle, V. Sandick, and Mrs. Coumans were in serious condition. Mrs. van Sandick and Magda Thiessen suffered severe burns.
After complex B was totally annihilated and everything was back to ‘normal’, all the wounded and the ill were taken to the cassava field. Jamadji expected that the remaining hospital and clinic would also be hit sooner or later.
With the threat of further bombing raids gone, everybody showed up from
all corners near and far, and assembled on a field on the other side of the
canal. Many had crossed the canal and were sopping wet. Jamadji ordered that
they be provided with dry clothing from the luggage that had survived the fires
and whose owners had not been found yet. There was also a lot of clothing
available that came from the sewing room. Jamadji had ordered me to pass out
these garments, but it proved to be impossible since too many felt that they
should be entitled to some new clothing. While I stood on one side helping
people, others were stealing apparel out of unguarded suitcases on the other
side. There is nothing anyone can do against such a horde of hundreds of
stealing women and children. It didn’t make any difference how much I clamored
for help, it seemed as if everybody was out to help themselves to whatever they
could. Nobody listened to me. In the meantime more and more people arrived on
the field. Jamadji saw to it that the wounded were taken to a covered area. The
food, which had been prepared in he kitchen, which was not damaged, was also
brought in. Then the people were grouped according to the barracks in which
they were housed. Jamadji had appointed Mrs. Joustra to take care of organizing
the crowd, while he assailed me for not preventing the theft of garments. I had
asked two ladies to help me but they were scolded by Jamadji and chased off so
that I faced the mob all by myself, while I was being called on to assist with
the wounded too. I told Jamadji that he wanted me to do the impossible, and
that he himself could not keep order in this kind of highly charged atmosphere.
I then ignored his hissing and bellowing and did what I thought should be done.
Towards dusk Jamadji finally managed to tell the people to march to the
emergency camp. By that time the women and children were dazed and worn out,
they walked by the burnt out complex A in a southwesterly direction. I was
ordered to accompany them. It was dark by the time the last ones, including me,
arrived at the camp. After the bombing of Pare, this camp had been built by
Jamadji in November. This was done in secret and only a handful knew about its
existence. There were 10 large and 36 smaller barracks built on poles. The
floors were about 60 cm. off the ground and were made of bamboo slats, which
had wide spaces between them. The roof was made of palm leaves and the floor
was our bed. The largest of these building was supposed to hold 96, those
barracks that were half again as big would hold 48, and the smallest structures
held 35 people each. This meant that each person was assigned to a surface of
about 0.72 meter, to be more exact 1.80x0.40 meter. It was therefore not
surprising that no one slept much that first night. Other contributing factors
to a lack of sleep were the cold, hard floors, and the worst happened when it
started to pour about
In the meantime, a lot of items, which were stored in areas that were not touched by fire, were brought out. Some things were taken to the new camp that night, but people who were still able to carry something took most of it to our new camp the following day.
The biggest inconvenience we had to contend with was the absence of latrines, and because of the fear of rabid dogs no one ventured far from the camp, and everything was deposited in the nearby vicinity, especially during the night. The stench eventually became unbearable and the possibility of stepping in something, or having to lie down on or near a ‘surprise’ during an alarm was real.
Chabot: A change was brought into our camp lives when our camp
burned down. On the 17th of July at about
I had just returned to my barrack when the alarm was sounded again. The way the commandant rang the bell made me go to the shelter immediately without waiting one moment. The shelter was a trench dug 1 ½ meter into the ground and covered with tree trunks and earth. It was as if we heard a gentle breeze coming from outside the shelter that told us that black items were dropped from the airplanes, followed by soft explosions from bursting bamboo. When the airplanes had gone I stuck my head outside the shelter and noticed people running to the gate and the surrounding rice paddies, and I saw black columns of smoke around the edges of the camp. We had known for the last few days that Japanese troops were assembled close around the camp. I thought that they had been the targets and that the flames jumped over to the camp.
Our complex B had not burned yet. I left the children by the shelter and ran to the barrack to move our things outside. I realized that the wild grass would catch fire and took the bedding to the shelter with the children. I remember how I stood in the camp holding the few math books in my hands. I put them down and chose to take cans with sugar and oatmeal, thinking that the camp was already burning: ‘food for the children’, and: ’the war won’t last much longer’. When I returned to the shelter for the 4th time, the Father chased everybody outside the gate. I didn’t understand why. Along the road was an irrigation canal. We crossed the bridge and went into the bushes on the other side. The planes returned and burned complex B. Machine gun fire came from the ground and was returned by the planes right over us. It was all over in no time. (This bombing raid lasted less than 2 hours. OY)
Seven wounded persons were carried in on stretchers; five of them died almost right away. To my big surprise large baskets of boiled rice and other food items were carried in. All the brick buildings and the kitchen were untouched by bombs. Everybody looked for a leaf to use as a plate, then we were allowed to go back to the ruins to look for the charred remains of plates and cutlery, and also buckets. Everything I had put in the shelter was still there. Other shelters were hit by incendiary bombs, not through the earth but along the wooden stairs that came down into the shelters. It was nice to realize that you still own something.
Then the order came to move to the emergency camp, about 15 minutes from the camp. We arrived there when evening fell. Ten barracks and twenty small houses awaited us. Spaces were very small, 44 square cm. per person, but when it started to rain, the roof over our heads was worth its weight in gold.
Seth Paul:
It was a clear but muggy day. No allies in the air. Work at the pigpens
was finished when, at
Still, a bit odd! The planes flew at a lower altitude than when they
would on their way to
At about
The napalm bombs were hexagonal tubes, about 3 or 4 cm in diameter, and about 50 cm long. The top was closed off with a hexagonal lid that was easy to remove. The bottom of the tube contained a detonator and two small boxes with gunpowder, which was separated by a wall from the yellow jelly that, smelled like gasoline and gauze ribbons were attached to the end of the bomb. The separating wall held a hole that was closed off with a bent metal disc that was designed to expel the burning napalm. The detonator was as big as the cylinder of an ordinary door lock and consisted of a striking pin and a percussion cap. The striking pin was protected from the outside by a safety spring that only worked after the tubes were separated. This happened at the time when they were released from the bomb bay, and that’s why several of the bombs were on fire on their way down to their targets.
When the bombs hit the ground the ensuing shock engaged the ignition pin that lit the gunpowder box which was hardly larger than a nickel and only half a cm. thick. In turn this would light up a larger gunpowder container and the gases would then generate enough power to move the bent disc and expel the napalm.
The attack was carried out by a part of the 13th Air Force, which was stationed in Morotai. About 10,000 incendiary bombs were used in that air raid. It was assumed that ours was a Japanese camp. A total of 23 Liberator’s were involved.
The bombs fell on the pigpens, and complex A and C, and several houses and barracks in the Ambon camp. People living there were totally surprised and couldn’t save anything.
During the first wave of attack several casualties occurred during the first hour. The airplanes returned and left a white smoke trail, probably to gauge the direction of the wind. We first ran to the shelters and then back to the barracks to try to save whatever we could. I didn’t realize my strength during those panicky moments. I dragged heavy suitcases to the spaces in between the smaller storage buildings. I carried lighter luggage across the canal into the canyon. I had lost my other family members. I didn’t know where my mother, sisters, and aunts were, but assumed that they were safe. Our barrack had not been hit yet.
Then the Liberator’s returned for a second attack. The bomb bays were open… they came straight down towards me and I hit the water. I was scared but not in a panic. Again the incendiaries came down, they resembled fluttering sticks, some of them already on fire. A bullet zinged over my head and hit the canal wall behind me. Now I began to panic and I swam to the other side where the dike was back of me, instead of in front for protection. A dumb thing to do, but too late to correct. When the bombs were about 100 meters above me I dove down as deep as I could in the hope that the water would break their descent.
After about half a minute, thinking that all the bombs must have reached the surface, I stuck my head above water and saw large fires floating on the water. There was also a large fire on the spot that I had left just moments before. Of course I assumed that my guardian angel had taken care of me. I swam back to the side where I had left my things and, climbing out of the canal, I had a good view of the camp. A sea of fire, accompanied by airplane noise, exploding bamboo, smoke, and soot drifting down against a gentian blue back ground.
All people must have fled the camp or else they were hidden in the shelters. I helped women and children cross the river Berang which, fortunately, was mostly dry. But other camp members fled in the direction of the dam.
While the Liberator’s again flew low over us and machine gunned the area, the Japanese soldiers ran onto the camp terrain to save whatever could still be saved. The clinic, the central kitchen, and the rice storage buildings were not hit. It was just as if the Allies had only targeted those buildings that were made of bamboo, and used up 10,000 bombs to do it. Why? We were not the enemy.
Lindeboom: Rumor has it that the Japs purposely stored supplies of gasoline, weaponry, and ammunition around the women’s camp, and in so doing the camp served as a shield for the Japs.
Twice the Allies dropped leaflets for the natives, and so, on the 17th of July when thousands of incendiaries were dropped, many ran from the shelters to grab a pamphlet. But those shiny things were a lot larger and soon reached the ground within a few seconds. Thank goodness they didn’t explode right away. After they hit the ground they caught fire without doing any harm, otherwise many more would have been harmed. As it happened, only 8 were hurt. Later, after the big fire, the bomb containers were placed along the road next to the cow pasture. There were several thousands of them.
We were very much dismayed, but nobody blamed the Americans; there was still a strong tie of solidarity with our unknown allies, and we were convinced that they must have had a very good reason to have done this.
My mother, sister, and I flew to the already burning barrack 13. I must mention that I was drowsy and feverish with malaria, so I was dragged along to get our three backpacks. Mothers are magnificent beings; their whole life is geared to save the lives of their children. My mother suffered from an overactive thyroid gland, so that she was always skinny and hungry, but she always managed to save some of her rations and put them in our emergency supplies in our backpacks. Slowly our supply of sugar, which mother put in a can, grew bigger. Some stale pre-war biscuits, a roll of candy, a piece of clothing, and a piece of silver for each of us, those were the contents of our packs. The sugar was to be eaten slowly in case of an emergency, to supply us with energy when we might be faced with a final escape. The piece of clothing was just that, and the piece of silver was supposed to be an item that could be sold or traded if needed. That piece of clothing saved me a lot of embarrassment at a later date, and in 1991 I still use that silver teaspoon with the image of little Wilhelmina.
These three backpacks were placed on the upper bunk bed with the shoulder straps hanging over the edge so that they could be grabbed whenever that was needed. And it happened exactly that way.
Jamadji and cohorts drove us across the bridge so that we could find shelter between the native’s houses and plant growth. Spasmodic efforts of their wheezing machine guns to shoot down the big planes were of no use to the Japs. To our great relief none of the American planes were hit. After the attack we were assembled and driven back across the camp into our burned out camp. We walked along the back of our burned out camp and came to the edge of a wooded area where the Jap had an emergency camp waiting for us. The lack of sufficient space in these barracks left us no room for any privacy; we slept in rows next to each other, on the floor.
Maurenbrecher-Brain: We heard airplanes more often and they came steadily closer when, suddenly, American bombers dropped bombs on our camp. At first our trenches were open, but they were eventually covered. Everybody fled into the closest shelter. The entry into the shelter was ell shaped. Our shelter was pretty full with squatting people, when a young girl ran into the entrance and sat against the uncovered wall. We made some room for her and pulled her in, just in time, because bullets raked the spot where she had been seated. An enormous amount of phosphor bombs were dropped on the camp. (Those were not phosphor bombs but napalm bombs. -SP)
Large amounts of bombs didn’t explode. The barracks caught fire and the people panicked. Everybody ran out of the camp. I didn’t know where my kids were and found them two hours after the fire. What a relief!
Several wounded were in serious condition; because the contents of these bombs keep on burning once they hit, gangrene follows. Miss Coumans lost a foot when a shard cut though the Achilles tendon of one of her feet. It was amputated. A bomb pierced one of Pop Dahler’s thighs when she sought shelter in an open trench.
Van Lochem: One day a load of incendiary bombs was dropped on our camp; planes came over in waves to drop them. Later we found unexploded bundles of them, still crated in their racks, 20 to a rack. But of course thousands did catch on fire and the whole camp went up in flames.
When the first wave came over we were in our shelters and the Jap was scared to death. After the airplanes passed he ran out of the shelter followed by To ten Boom, Anneke, and me, because we wouldn’t stay in that place any longer. We flew by the burning kitchen and storage places to the farthest covered shelter, which was filled with nuns. That’s when the second wave of planes came over. All the nuns prayed loudly while using their rosaries. In the meantime the Jap had gone back into his shelter and apparently missed us, because he started to look for us.
Anyway, nothing was left of the camp except for the main building, a few houses in the Ambon camp, and the clinic. The concrete platform for the kitchen fires was still standing, but the whole structure was burned down. Bombs had come down in the open trenches causing many casualties. The material inside the incendiaries was awful. Water wouldn’t touch it and it had to burn out by itself. If someone had an injured foot it had to be amputated (they did that in a Japanese hospital in Makassar), but after some time the burn reappeared on the ankle, so that the leg would be amputated to the knee. It appeared again and the leg had to be amputated to the hip. One child was burned over its whole body, and I saw several others with burns, but the people with third degree burns didn’t suffer much, they died soon after.
Seth Paul: The sad outcome of this event. But thanks to the many shelters only 7 of the 1,650 camp inhabitants were wounded, five of them died. Those were Freddy Paul, the ladies P. Dahler, W. van Sandik, Clabbers, and Coumans, and the children Ploeger, and Tiessen.
Freddy Paul was partly deaf, and had sought shelter with his teacher, Mrs. Pfeiffer, in an open shelter in the area of the pigpens. A single bomb that didn’t burst hit Freddie’s hip. Right after this happened he told his teacher: “Thank God that you were not hit.”
The ladies Halewijn, Dahler, and Hoogeveen were lying side by side in an earth pocket by the pigsties. An incendiary bomb went right through Mrs. Dahler’s thigh and pinned her to the ground. Doctor Marseille had to remove the hexagonal object so that she could be transported to Makassar right away. But did life have any meaning for this young woman whose husband was reported missing at the beginning of the war? Her only child had died soon after birth. And after her leg was cut off she would have to face the possibility to die of rabies, since she also had been bitten by a rabid dog. Anyway, she never woke up from the operation.
Mrs. van Sandik tried to protect a child from the sticky, burning napalm and became a casualty herself. Both of them died. This also happened to the child Tiessen. I don’t know what happened to Mrs. Clabbers. Mrs. Coumans lost part of her leg but lived.
It takes but a moment for one’s life to change, or hours, minutes, or the wink of an eye. Smoking ground replaced the barracks, the bunk beds we slept in, the dining halls where only this morning we had our breakfasts. No ruins, no rubble, just a desolate area, only the water wells and the iron pumps were visible.
People who were close to despair rummaged between the ashes like chickens looking for things the fire couldn’t destroy, like mugs, plates, buckets, jewelry, and memories.
Thirty- five out of six hundred and thirty five pigs survived the thirsty fires. They walked around while covered with burns and blisters, and many had skins hanging down in sheets. Others were charred or roasted next to the troughs in the remaining pens, which also burned to the ground.
I shall never forget how we boys went looking for fresh cadavers and pulled off a leg to feast on. After having taken several bites we would throw away the meat and help ourselves to another part. This was crazy! So much meat, in blinding contrast to the few pieces of meat a day on our plates, and you would consider your self fortunate at that. No, I didn’t get really sick, and neither did the others. But there comes an end to every day, also this disastrous one. But the camp commandant had one surprise in store for us. An emergency camp underneath tall trees, not too far from our original camp. He must have been aware of the threat that awaited us. That’s why he had the shelters built and made it mandatory for us to enter them during an alarm.
We called this camp our jungle camp because the small houses weren’t much more than a large bamboo bed built on posts covered by a roof. They measured about 20 meters long and several meters wide, and not more than 100 people could lie down on the floor, i.e. 50 against each wall. That meant only a forty-cm. width per person, making it difficult to turn over in your sleep.
The latrines were nothing more than holes in the ground surrounded by a fence. There were not enough of them, certainly during peak hour when everyone needed to go at the same time in the morning. But it embarrassed no one to hide behind a tree when so many were ahead of you to use the latrines.
No wells, and no nearby water. Leaves served as toilet paper. If you picked the wrong one you’d notice it soon enough.
Maurenbrecher-Brain: We were housed in a jungle camp. Barracks on bamboo posts, with walls of woven bamboo, floors of split bamboo and palm leaf roofs. Open latrines, and food that was brought in from the central kitchen which had no walls or roof.
The ladies carried the porridge in half an oil drum that hung from a bamboo pole. They walked the earthen path to the jungle camp. One lady slipped and fell with one arm in the boiling hot porridge!
We dried our laundry by hanging it out on the surrounding bushes, until the commandant put a stop to it. It was too visible from the air. Since the soil was peat-like and contained pockets of air, it sounded like bombers were coming when anyone would walk fast. To prevent panic it was forbidden to walk fast. Poor kids! They were often scolded.
At night it was difficult not to touch your neighbor, and it was doubly hard not to step on anyone if you needed to visit a latrine at night. A hole in the ground covered by a few bamboo slats to squat down on. Many of us suffered with intestinal complaints like ulcers. We used strong tea without sugar to ease the discomfort. It only helped a little bit. One night when I had to go out I noticed a dark shape on the path. Thinking that it might be a Jap I hid among large tree roots and waited, but nothing happened. Suddenly a soft voice said in Malay: “Don’t be afraid, I am with the police.” What a relief! We continued on. Those tree roots also served as hiding places when planes came over.
Van Lochem: All of us were taken to an emergency camp in the woods, about half an hour away from the old camp. It appeared that two of those camps had been built in the woods surrounding the camp, but one of them burned down. There were no sanitary facilities. The Japs had considered the possibility of a bombardment, but since one of the camps stayed in tact after the bombing, we were all put in the remaining one.
Water and food had to be carried in from the old camp; a kitchen crew remained in the old camp. These women slept in the school, which had not burned down.
Since no latrines were available everybody went into the woods. Within a short time dysentery broke out. Since water had to be carried in from the old camp, everyone would carry a bucket over the trail, which became very slippery because of the spilled water.
Voskuil: Wednesday, July 18, 1945. The commandant called Joustra and Valderpoort in. He named Joustra the general leader of the camp and Valderpoort the leader of the jungle camp. I stayed with Joustra. Everything had to run as smoothly as possible in spite of the havoc around us, especially the distribution of food, but we worked it out.
In the afternoon a truck came in from Makassar loaded with sarongs, lamps, candles, underwear, and cookies. A while later high ranking visitors arrived accompanied by cameramen - to film our misery?
The mothers of the two children that died were interviewed on film also. The visitors asked the ladies if they still considered the Allies friends. Their answer was: “Yes.” Didn’t they lament the bombing of the camp? They responded that they didn’t know why this happened, but there must have been a reason for it.
Joustra asked if it was possible to move us. They asked where to: “ To a safer place”. They laughed….
The cameramen filmed the smoking ruins, collapsed buildings, and deep craters.
A list was delivered together with the letters of the POW’s of the men who had donated money to their wives and the camp.
Joustra: Before I went to sleep I had changed from my wet dress into the clothing I had received. When I awoke the next morning I realized that, what I thought to be a khaki pair of pants, really was a white pair of pants that had become soiled with oil spots. For a moment it made me sick to my stomach to think that I put it on over my bare body last night, but fortunately I didn’t catch anything. The shirt was very clean and I wore it for a long time.
The first thing Jamadji had us do was to make a list of where all the people were. It was a lot of work. To my horror I realized that one person was missing. Who was it, and where was she? After an extensive search we found out that she was the native wife of an Army soldier. Before I notified Jamadji we asked around where she was, and to my great relief she was among the sick. She was in a native village that had been made into an emergency hospital. We called her back and placed her with the group of people in the emergency camp to which she had been assigned originally.
We now had to see to it that the camp business would run smoothly. We first had to see to it that food and drink would be taken care of, and then all the material that had been salvaged from the shelters and burned out barracks had to be gathered. The central kitchen was not damaged, neither was the vegetable storage place. The kitchen crews could therefore continue. The six “naughty” girls who were taken to Kampili from Makassar offered to take care of the drinking water. They boiled the water in the former porridge drums in the burned out dining hall of barracks 5 and 6. They hauled the water out of the canal and gathered the necessary firewood from the ruins. Anyone needing drinking water could get it from them. It ran very efficient, and I didn’t need to pay any attention to this operation.
The food had to be carried to the emergency camp in wash tubs and large cans. It took about 15 minutes to walk from the kitchen to the camp. The 3 men, who were living in the clinic, which was only partly burned, and the women who needed to work in the old camp, received their food from the central kitchen. As usual we stood in line and received our portions of rice in enameled dishes, which had been doled out in the meantime. But a problem came up. The 3 men came to me with their plates telling me that they felt wronged, because they didn’t get enough food. Before the bombardment the nuns always provided their meals in the clinic. I think that they took very good care of the men. How to solve this problem? I had an idea! The men could stand at the beginning of the food line and return after everyone had gone through the line. This way they would get twice as much as the women. This was not acceptable by the women. I asked the women how many of them would have to pump the water into the water tower, and they replied that it would take six of them. Then I asked them how many men it would take to do the same type of work, and they said: “Three.” My solution therefore was that the men needed twice as much food as the women.
This is the way the water supply was taken care of: 6 women would pump water for an hour in pairs, they would pump 200 times each to get the water out of an old well into a reservoir that served the hospitals and the command post.
On this day, goods were delivered from Makassar. Among the clothing articles was a green uniform without insignia. Jamadji decided that since I became camp leader again that I had to wear that outfit. During the first few days women would leave whenever they saw me approach, thinking that I was a Jap prying around.
The commandant of Makassar, Admiral Osuki, also arrived to take in the ‘scenery’. He promised that the camp would be rebuilt as soon as possible.
During the first day 400 dead pigs were taken to Makassar. This was necessary because a number of vultures were circling over the pigpens, and an unbearable stench had started to permeate the atmosphere.
On the second day Dr. Goedbloed told me towards the evening that she couldn’t take proper care of the seriously wounded. She asked me to transport the patients to Makassar where they could get surgical care. I approached Jamadji with her request, and he, unexpectedly, flew into a rage. He yelled that the doctors had offered their help in the beginning and that they were refused; now we had to take care of our own problems. I just stood there; this is what I had seen when I saw Marseille and Jamadji talk to the Japanese in the car.
Then, as I had done before, I started to talk and talk. I tried to explain that there had been a misunderstanding and added that we trusted the Japanese to take good care of our wounded. He finally calmed down and summoned Dr. Goedbloed to get her assurance also that the condition of the wounded was almost hopeless. We begged him to please get help as soon as possible. He had to submit our sincere apologies to the Japanese doctors, and tell them that it had been a misunderstanding when we refused their help at first.
Jamadji did what we asked for and the wounded were carried to Makassar as soon as possible. It was too late for two of them, but they couldn’t be helped, even if they had received surgical help right away. The third one stayed alive after her leg had been amputated above the knee.
Stolk: During those days I ambled, a bit lost, among the charred remains of the camp. My mother worked in the kitchen and many of my friends stayed in the jungle camp. Then I found a kindred soul in Stans van Meijgaard, and we became good friends. Stans had taken me to the burned out pigpens where her friend Annemarie van Halewijn worked. That’s where we ate fresh roasted pork. What happened to those animals was very sad, but it was past history and I wouldn’t let that spoil a taste of extra meat. Whatever was not consumed right away would spoil soon enough.
During a free moment my mother and I went to the place where we used to live and poked around among the ashes. We found her gold watch, wedding ring, and another ring, somewhat charred and fused together.
So now and then I would go to the jungle camp to bring water and food. I was glad that I didn’t have to stay there. What a mess! No privacy! In the old camp I enjoyed the space and my freedom! It was indeed a desolate world, but I really didn’t feel that unfortunate. It didn’t bother me that much that we lost the little that we had, but so what? What else did we have? Not much else.
Valderpoort: Thursday, July 18, 1945. Today many people were surprised the same way: stepping in excrement. I approached Jamadji to report several incidents, but he lent a deaf ear. It seemed that he didn’t think that it was important enough to merit his attention. Of foremost importance was the availability of food and clothing and these goals were aggressively pursued.
In the middle of the open plain women stood cooking on the concrete range tops of the burned out barracks. The food was then hauled to the jungle camp in washtubs and bucket’s which were also needed for other purposes, like washing clothes and bathing children. Let’s hope that the shortage of proper food receptacles will not lead to a catastrophe.
Otherwise the distribution of several kinds of goods is excellent: a lot of cotton fabrics for clothing, mats, bags for blankets, even biscuits and candy were delivered. Suddenly Jamadji gave the candy to the eager children and me. This event turned my stomach and I kept turning my back to the Japanese photographer, and stayed as far away from Jamadji as I could. I didn’t want to be pictured together with him. A lot of women were interviewed, and they were asked the same question over and over again: “What do you have to say now that this bombardment was carried out by your friends.” Fortunately most of the women were smart enough to say that they had been confined for such a long time that they couldn’t understand why it had happened. Most of them were disappointed about the chain of events and wonder why this had to happen.
On the day of the air attack we received more assurance about the state of the world from several pamphlets. We know that Holland is free and that peace in Europe has been a fact since May the 7th. This bolstered our spirits somewhat.
Yesterday the hospital wards and the clinic did not fall prey to the fire, and the ill were taken to the diphtheria department with their luggage. The diphtheria patients were taken to a few houses across the canal. Most of the goods in the storage places that had not burned down were taken to the cassava garden and the jungle camp. It was quite a job, but well worth it.
Nelly Filet, who was bitten by a rabid dog, has been taken to the hospital. We fear the worst.
Thursday, 19 July 1945. The alarm was sounded this morning and the people, who were deathly afraid, sought shelter among the brush.
It was horrible to watch the frightened adults and the young when the planes closed in; there was nothing we could do. They cried, they prayed. It seemed like some were going to lose their minds. In the meantime the planes were over the camp and dropped about 30 bombs on the old camp. They exploded with a terrifying noise and destroyed the hospitals, the central kitchen, and the few small houses that were left standing after the incendiary attack. The women, who had been working there, hid in the enclosed shelters. Those that were at a greater distance from the center of the camp had to seek shelter in open trenches. Thank goodness, no one was hit, but in the jungle camp shrapnel hit several kids. One had his leg scraped and another was hit on the forehead. Otherwise they were not hurt. Many had to dig themselves out from under the dirt and available water was ten minutes away so they couldn’t bathe right away. There is no well in this camp, every drop of water must be hauled out of the old camp.
Immediately after the bombing raid Jamadji arrived and saw that the people had walked too far away from the barracks to find shelter. He let go with a thundering scolding, and ordered that no one was to go further than 20 meters away from the barracks. I appointed a few ladies to see to it that this order was obeyed. Fear would increase, since so many feel vulnerable being that close to the fast burning barracks. Also, there are a few gullies further away, and natural and man made trenches, which are not evident close to the emergency barracks. But the sadist himself has a 6-meter deep reinforced concrete air raid shelter. His valuable life is safe, while ours seem to be of no importance.
It is also a great pity that we are not allowed to haul water from a close by spring, which is about 30 meters from the camp. Even if we could use the water for our laundry, it would be better than hauling water all the way from the old camp. All our requests are met with refusals. It is awful to try doing a good job when cooperation at a lower level is absent. Most of the time the reverse is true. Mrs. Joustra is in charge now. Voskuil, who always looked out for her self, has become her aide without asking me. The food and accommodations are also so much better in the old camp. There are water and toilet facilities. Access to news is also better than here in the jungle. Mrs. Kortmans who rang the bell only once in this camp, has also left to go to the old one. Two complex leaders, Klay and Nanning stayed down there too, and the leaders here are of no help at all. Mrs. Bouman is hyper and Luyendijk is not suited for a leadership position. Fortunately Mrs. Herdes is a great assistant, and the distribution ladies are also providing great support. There is much to do under sometimes hopeless conditions, and we need to be alert night an day to think and take charge. That is why it was doubly painful to know that those in the old camp were doing it for self preservation, then act as if they catch all the flack while we enjoy the fruits of their labors. It seemed that they influenced Jamadji’s judgment, because he seemed only interested in helping them and ignoring us. Whenever he comes here it is only to inspect the storage place, and he gets angry when we complain about leaking roofs, lack of latrines and water. And yet these points are of primary importance to us, and I will not stop pressing these issues.
Voskuil: Thursday, 19 July 1945. The alarm bell rang at 11 AM. Someone called out for anyone to lend a hand carrying khaki fabric. Those who were willing to help, almost became victims, because when they came outside the airplanes were right over us, and we barely had time to scoot into the shelter that was closest to the hospital. Once we were inside we realized that the hospital was a target. The three of us: Joustra, Monty and I, felt like we occupied our own grave. Each attack – there were three of them - made the floor rumble, and chalk and cement fell down. Then after the third attack the entrance closed up, and I said that I was leaving. Joustra said that it was each for themselves but she resolutely added that she was going to stay.
Monty and I ran past the burned out barracks to the barbed wire and crawled underneath. We hardly had found a place between the high wild grass, when the planes returned and started to strafe; then they returned and strafed again. Finally they left and Monty and I looked at each other, surprised that we were still alive!
When everything was quiet we heard Joustra ask the people in other shelters whether they had seen us. We came forward and Joustra told everybody to move to the jungle camp. Once there I wondered what the hospital looked like after the bombardment. Everything was in ruins, except for the front where I had put my things. Just that morning I had moved from the back to the front of the hospital, so I felt very lucky that I was able to save some of my things.
We ate at the Club and during the day we heard that we could sleep in the school, something we liked to hear!
Joustra: On the 19th of July we endured the second bombardment. This one too was carried out right after noon. Thank goodness, the food carriers had already left along the path to the emergency camp, so that relatively few people were left in the old camp when the planes came. This time there were only two planes. When the alarm went off the people literally flew as far away from the existing buildings and sought shelter in covered trenches. I stood next to the women’s ward, where the “workers” had slept since the first bombardment, together with my aide, Mrs. Voskuil, and an Australian, Patsy. After the first bombardment she told me in fractured Dutch that she wanted to stay with me, and she did. I waited until all the people had disappeared, but then it was too late for us to reach a shelter that was farther away. We used the first shelter, which was several meters away from the hospital. We had hardly reached that shelter when a bomb closed the entrance which we had just cleared. An earsplitting blast and a series of loud booms followed. We huddled together, Mrs. Voskuil was in the middle praying loudly. Sand came down on us. After some time, which seemed to be an eternity, the engine noise faded into the distance. Patsy and Cor Voskuil crawled to the only remaining exit to leave the shelter. They begged me to come with them but I refused, thinking that the planes would return, leaving us no time to look for an adequate shelter.
Then Cor tried to force me to go, but I reminded her that during perilous times everybody must decide for themselves what their best options would be. I stayed behind by myself and, indeed, the planes returned. Again bombs fell, but this time I also heard the rattle of machine gun fire. Fear filled my heart; it would have been impossible for Cor and Patsy to find shelter in time. Pretty soon the planes disappeared again, this time they didn’t return.
I crawled through the partially covered exit and worked through the loose sand with hands and feet to reach the surface. I looked around and found that the appearance of Kampili had changed drastically. There were small and large craters, and small and large piles of dirt everywhere. Smoke rose in all directions and the dry explosions of bamboo could be heard all around us. I started to call out Patsy’s and Cor’s names, but there was no response. I went to each shelter and asked the women if they had seen Cor and Patsy. But nobody had. Several women offered to help me look for them. We had already passed the drainage ditch, close to the barbed wire, when we finally had a response. Cor and Patsy crawled out from under out of the cassava plants. They approached us from under the wire; they had not been hurt. Even the barbed wire had not left a scratch. Suddenly my legs would not support me anymore. I sagged to the ground and stared at them, speechless. Cor told us excitedly how she had dropped behind a tree when the planes started to fire. When the planes returned they moved to the other side of the tree, keeping the tree in between them and the line of fire. A boy had fallen and had chafed his elbow, and a young woman had several scratches. That was all. The shelters had protected us well this time. The one that I had been in received a direct hit, and another three bombs had exploded not 3 meters away. Those bombs had partially destroyed the protective layer of the shelter. Someone else had spent the raid in a shelter all by herself; it was Mother Antonine, the head of the diet kitchen. When the alarm was sounded she made sure that all the fires were out, and in so doing she didn’t have enough time to reach the shelters that were farther away from the center.
Not much was left of the camp, almost all the houses were damaged, even the central kitchen. The command post also suffered considerable damage, and all that was left of the children’s ward and women’s ward were a few erect pieces of concrete walls.
The laundry that was put out to dry on the field in front of the school was shot through with shrapnel and partly scorched. There went my last dress.
Only one building had survived both bombings, and that was the school close to the barbed wire fence. All six classrooms were in one piece. The women and girls who had stayed in the old camp used this building as a dorm, until the new barracks would be built.
Chabot: The day after the first bomb attack the storage places were emptied as much as possible, because the commandant expected that the planes would return to destroy the rest of the camp. Indeed, on the 19th of July, while we stayed under some tall trees, 16 bombs were dropped on the storage building, the kitchen, and the hospital. The residence of the commandant, the school, and several small houses stayed in tact. The three bombs that fell about three meters from the shelter didn’t do any damage. The nearest shelters provided excellent shelter. It seemed that a total of 4,000 incendiary bombs were dropped on the 17th, and it is remarkable that there were so few victims.
We were totally in the dark as to why these raids were executed; the secure feelings we used to have are gone. After these attacks we felt very vulnerable whenever planes came over.
We are not allowed to move more than 20 meters away from the barracks. We even dug a trench. One night we had to use it.
Seth Paul: On the 19th of July the Allies returned to finish the job. This time they used ordinary bombs. I fled into the rice paddies behind the slaughterhouse, and from there I watched how 18 bombs were dropped. The rice storage shed, part of the central kitchen, the hospital, and the bathroom of the commandant were hit. The largest crater was where the bathroom had been. The commandant had been so proud of this bathroom; the bomb put an end to a Japanese ritual.
We, Pastor Beltjens and I, struggled farther into the rice fields. The Pastor walked with difficulty because he carried something with him. Maybe it was the Chalice, or bottles of wine, or holy oil, I don’t know. But when the bombs burst, several red-hot pieces of shrapnel came sizzling down into the moist earth next to me. I was determined to take several of these pieces with me as souvenirs, but the pastor called out to me, he used words that didn’t fit his profession. Oh well, after all he’s human too.
Two kinds of leaflets came down that day. I was one of the firsts to know that Germany had been defeated, because I found a torn piece of paper with this news. We ran on not knowing that we approached an anti aircraft gunnery nest that was firing on the Liberator’s. But the planes reacted and bullets were zinging by our heads. It had to be the guardian angel of the pastor who had pointed us in the wrong direction; mine didn’t do anything like that.
Later on it became known that 2 Liberator’s of the “Snooper’s” group had dropped 18 bombs of 250 kg each.
Van Lochem: The second bombardment took place several days after the first one. Every time a bomb fell the tailors would stick their heads out to report which area was hit. “The clinic has been hit and now the hospital.” When it was over we all came out of our shelters. Thank heavens that there had not been more than 25 people in the area, and no one was hurt. The main building had several large holes in the roof and the walls, but we could still sleep there. There were restroom facilities, and we used those to take our baths at the same time. The door had been loosened during the bombardment, but we just placed it in position when it was needed.
At night we took turns standing guard. It meant that we had to sit under a large tree in which a large brass bell was hung. Mrs. Kortmans used this bell to announce meal times and reveille, but now it was being used to ring the alarm. All night long we would sit under the tree with a large stick to defend ourselves against possible rabid dog attacks. At the same time we would be alert to any sounds of approaching airplanes. Whenever that happened we had to wake the Jap who would determine whether the alarm should be rung. Then everybody, including those in the jungle camp, had to find a safe spot. We relieved the guard every few hours and woke the next guard through the holes in the walls. We did have a watch to help us tell the time.
One night To and I were awakened by the Jap who never entered our quarters, but roared in the hallway: “Boom-Lochem!” The other Jap, who was the second in command, was housed in the jungle camp to keep an eye on things. For some reason or another Jap no. 1 felt the need to speak to Jap no. 2 in the middle of the night. To and I set out to get him while holding a flashlight and a stick to defend ourselves against rabid dogs. We also wrapped ourselves in sarongs, in case a dog would attack us; the layers of cloth would protect us somewhat against the poisonous bite. I can relate this calmly at this time, but can you imagine our situation? We walked for half an hour over dark rice field dikes; we could not turn off the flashlight, because Japs who would shoot at anything that moved in the dark surrounded us. When we finally reached Jap no. 2 we could not wake him. This had been a dreadful walk, and we were scared to death, but we had told ourselves that Jap no. 2 would be with us on the way back. But when Jap no. 2 finally realized what was going on, he took off so fast that he was gone in no time in the dark, and we were left to fend for ourselves on the way back.
Stolk: July 20, 1945. I have never had such a strange birthday, and will never have another one like it. It was my 20th. I never was so poor either; I have the work clothes I wore at the time of the bombing. One wooden sandal that was left when I fled the fire- oh no, I probably got rid of that one too- and the pencil I carried because I was on my way to school. That was all! But I was not the only one, and ‘shared misery is half the misery’. (An Old Dutch saying, also added to this is ‘shared joy is twice the joy’. - OY)
Wasn’t this a day to celebrate? Oh well,….My mother and I were saved from harm, something to be thankful for!
After the first bombing my mother and I slept in the hospital, which was left standing for the most part. But the second bombing raid flattened almost all the stone buildings. After that we slept in the school. It was close to the main gate and the barbed wire. The woven bamboo wall in the front was 4 feet high, giving us an airy bedroom. We could look out and see the blackened ruins of the barracks, and whatever was left standing of the stone buildings.
Yet I didn’t feel bad, I felt that I was being favored in comparison with the people in the jungle camp. They slept like sardines in a can on the bamboo floor.
I realized that I was claustrophobic, fleeing masses of people, never feeling comfortable among them. But then, who did? Down here there was no room and I felt free up here. Besides, we had bathroom facilities here. I roamed the camp and helped out with all kinds of chores.
I don’t exactly remember who else was down here. They were mostly young women without children who worked down here. Toetie also didn’t go to the jungle camp; we earned our keep down here.
Together with Stans van Meijgaard we found a nice place in a corner of a classroom on several bamboo tables. We talked for hours in the evening. My mother slept in another classroom together with the kitchen crew.
I received a birthday present from Stans, I think. A small notebook made of soft green wrapping paper, and a bookmarker crocheted of yellow cotton. I wrote some beautiful poems in it with the pencil that I had. I still have it. I don’t know how Stans managed it, but she probably saved her backpack.
There was another surprise, I don’t remember whether I received it on my birthday, but let’s pretend that I did. Someone brought me a crumpled piece of paper she had found in the rubble of one of the Ambon houses. It was one of my papers that survived because it was in a stone building. It was all messed up, but the honest finder felt that it should be mine, and that made me very proud.
Voskuil: July 20. The commandant held a meeting with the pastor, the reverend, and Joustra. The outcome was that a red, white, and bleu flag was created in no time at all, and placed on the grassy field. Next to the flag the words “Dutch Women” were written with white chalk. Then everyone had to promise not to touch anything that was dropped from the skies, because the lives of the commandant, Joustra, the pastor, the reverend, and Mrs. Valderpoort would be endangered. The nuns would be the first ones to exit the shelters after the all clear, and they were assigned to pick up anything that may have fallen on the ground. When I talked to Valderpoort, she told me that she had heard that I had gossiped about her behind her back. I also told her that I was at fault for not telling her right away that I would join Joustra once she took over the leadership of the camp, but I felt justified in doing so.
We are staying at the school, because all the other stone buildings were totally destroyed on the 19th of July, including the central kitchen and the hospital. Most of the people have been transferred to the jungle camp where they live a very primitive life; no toilet facilities and no water wells.
Seth Paul: July 20. Three days after being wounded Freddy Paul was taken to Makassar where his leg had to be amputated.
Valderpoort: July 20. Unfortunately Nelly Filet passed away.
This morning we had another alarm and we suffered through the consequences in this jungle camp. The guard ladies stood at regular intervals along the path from the old camp to the jungle camp, so that they could relay whatever messages were given by Jamadji, by shouting the instructions from one to another. I was not allowed to give the alarm, even although we knew that the bombs were falling. This happened because the guard ladies had already taken cover themselves so that no orders were relayed to our camp. When fearful mothers looked for shelters with their nervous children I was being chided for not being a good leader. I would rather be called that and get a tongue lashing from the Jap than have our people suffer injuries.
The instructions that the guard ladies needed to relay to us are sometimes garbled so badly, that we have no idea what we’re supposed to do. But we’re not supposed to complain because everything that is being done down there is right.
Mrs. Joustra and her satellite, also referred to as Mrs. Jamadji by some, don’t make mistakes. Long live the tyranny!
This afternoon I walked by the chain of the guard ladies back to the jungle camp, after I had asked Jamadji for blankets, toothbrushes, combs, fine tooth combs (presumably to remove the eggs of head lice-OY), and roof repair.
21July. My position is getting more and more precarious. Time and again I realize that things are being messed up behind my back, but I don’t know who is doing it. This morning I was called to attend a meeting at the office. I made every effort to get there as soon as I could, but the meeting went on without me. I was told that a large Dutch flag would be placed on a field in front of the school in the camp, and the words “Dutch Women” would be written next to it on the grass. It remains to be seen what kind of effect that would have on the allied planes that would fly over. If that would promote a response from the Allies in the form of pamphlets, letters, or whatever, no one would be allowed to pick them up or the camp leaders would be put to death, meaning Mrs. Joustra and me. After the all clear 10 women, who were hand picked by Jamadji, must gather up the items that were dropped from the planes and take them to him so that they can be examined. Only then everybody else could leave his or her bomb shelters. We, who are in the jungle camp, can only leave our shelters after word has come down from the old camp from Jamadji himself. All this takes a lot of unnecessary time. But let’s hope that all this is for the good of the camp, even if it will only ensure our all over safety. In my opinion I find all this rather unsophisticated, and I would have said so if they had waited for me only five minutes to make a decision that would affect my life.
22 July. I am too busy to go to church. There was a mass at 7 AM, and a Protestant service at 4 PM in the woods behind barrack no. 10. Many attended these events. After all the recent misfortunes it has become extra clear that it is impossible to carry on without God. Let’s hope that this won’t be a temporary need.
Voskuil: On the 22nd of July the commandant had called a meeting for everyone and urged that we needed to be courageous. He realized that we were women with big hearts, but we needed to be hard and ruthless and point out those who were unwilling to work. He also said that the burned down barracks would be rebuilt. The he added that we felt that the bombing raids were carried out because of the military installations around our camp, but he said that nothing could be further from the truth. We Dutch had soldiers in only two places, Tjamba and Enrekang, but the Jap soldiers were everywhere.
Seth Paul: On the 22nd of July a P-38 appeared overhead at 10 AM. Since we suspect that our jungle camp had been discovered we feared another attack. Any rustling sound in the trees could forebode falling bombs. It was impossible to see anything, and that was the fact that promoted our fears and an over production of adrenaline. That was why I preferred to be in an open field. Thank goodness that the Allies only targeted Limbung, which was constantly being, bombarded, and machine-gunned.
This is the legend on a pamphlet that was found by Eddy on the 20th of July 1945.
BE VERY CAREFUL, BROTHERS!!
Because of the allied victories in Europe and the developments in the pacific war, Japan realizes more and more that they will lose the war. We don’t think that they can get a good night’s sleep, not only because of our heavy bombardments of their industrial cities, but also because they know that the courageous Allied Forces will soon land in their fatherland.
You must wait for the day when and how D-Day will take place in the Pacific. But the American Admiral Nimitz has already perfected a plan.
While waiting to be freed you must take heed. Japanese cruelty is well known; we will know the names of those who have committed murders in secret. Their cruel practices will increase as we close in to defeat Japan. That is why the natives of Indonesia must take extra precaution from now on, but they must not stop to prepare in secret to throw the Japanese out.
MERCHANDISE, FOOD, CLOTHING, AND
OTHER USEFUL ARTICLES
MUST BE CONCEALED. TAKE CARE OF YOUR WOMEN, GUARD THEM WELL.
See to it that the bravado and empty promises of Japan won’t fool you. You know that freedom is at hand. We pray to God that He will support you mentally and physically with his blessings, blessings for you and your families. Do not doubt that:
WE SHALL RETURN.
On the 23rd of July, at about 11 AM, a P-38 appeared.
Valderpoort: July 23. Today the alarm sounded three times, 9 AM, noon, and 3 PM. Bombs fell on the airfield and close to some houses. It is still an enervating experience for those who lie flat on the ground under the brush, and feel fear whenever the planes fly over. Many of us develop heart problems because of the hard labor and returning anxieties. It is painful to always think that danger is at hand whenever we hear planes. Only when the Jap planes come over, can we continue whatever we’re doing.
July 24 and 25. Worked very hard, not a moment’s rest, but things are beginning to fall in place. Four primitive pits have been dug close to our quarters to serve as latrines. All in all, we now have access to 16 holes. The walls are made of transparent dry coconut leaves. The stench is unbearable; sometimes it keeps you from being able to sleep at night. We have to be careful not to attract flies, and I have appointed several ladies to keep the pits clean. They spread lime and kerosene in the pits. Until now the fly problem isn’t too bad, but dysentery cases are on the increase. I have asked Jamadji if a doctor can visit us to advise the complex nurses. His response is that Mrs. Companje, who is an assistant pharmacist and helped out in the clinic, can serve as acting doctor. She had to report to him personally, and she became very much enamored with her new position, which infuriated the nurses. It was odd that Mrs. Morks, who had been very happy when I assigned her to become a complex nurse because she couldn’t take being a hospital nurse anymore, didn’t come to the jungle camp where she was sorely needed. When I asked Joustra why she couldn’t come here, she answered that Mrs. Mork needed to oversee the health of those 40 some single women down there. Her health concerns related to eating, drinking, and clothing, while up here there were 1,400 women and children that were exposed to much more disease than those living below.
Seth Paul: We could clearly hear the sound of Liberators in the distance. On the 25th at noon one Liberator flew over the jungle camp without being challenged.
One week has passed since the bombardment and many lost everything they owned. The Jewish family Meshmur had lost all their consecrated pots and pans in the fire. The mother refused to use any other kind of cooking utensil for the preparation of food to feed her children. She prayed night and day under a large tree hoping for a miracle. We convinced her hungry children to secretly get some food from us. This was seen as a sign from God, because He was thanked after every meal.
Alas, Nelly Benjamins (also called Nelly Filet-TS) didn’t fare as well. In the old camp she was attacked by a rabid dog on her way to the latrines, and was bitten on the lip. When her desperate sister took me to see Nelly who acted so ‘strange’, I realized that her incubation period had passed. Her eyes rolled around in the sockets. I called several other boys to make a stretcher and we carried her to the clinic. We never saw her again.
In the meantime the rotting, smelly carcasses of the pigs had stayed out in bright sunlight for more than a week. The commandant assigned “volunteers” to clean up the mess and take them to the nearest open-air shelter. This was a dirty job. The decomposition was such that the slightest touch made the cadaver fall apart, after which a horrible stench would spread. We placed a stretcher right next to the pig, put three hoes at strategic places and tried to lift the rotting animal, counting 1, 2, 3, on the stretcher where it promptly fell apart. As luck had it we, very often, had to shovel the remains on top of the stretcher…. No mask, no gloves, and, of course, bare feet. So what?
In the camp a new deathly threat had emerged: rabid dogs. To protect ourselves we fashioned clubs with nails at the end. There had already been several victims. The small son of Mrs. Wesseling of barrack no. 7 had been bitten on the elbow. The incubation period could last six months. When the boy became afraid of water, his mother warned the doctor. It was a bad sign. We were told that rabid dogs feared water. Rabies is another word for ‘fear of water’.
Another boy was bitten on the buttocks. Not taking anything for granted he was taken to the clinic where we had to hold on to him so that Dr. Goedbloed could burn the bite with a red hot spoon without anesthetic. The screaming, and especially the smell of burning flesh, is forever printed in my mind. But he lived to tell about it.
In barrack no. 9 a young girl, 18 years old, went to the latrines at night. A rabid dog was asleep on the covered walkway to the latrines. The startled animal jumped up and bit Nelly’s lip. It was impossible to burn away her lip.
After all this happened panic broke out. Several ladies didn’t want to be sitting ducks and hunted for the dogs wherever they were, and started near the pigpens. The names of these women should never be forgotten: Toos Hoogeveen and Pop Dahler. Brave women!
While Toos Hoogeveen grabbed the first rabid dog with her bare hands, and of course was bitten, Pop Dahler beat the animal to death. Either the contaminated brains or the blood of the dog entered the wounds on the hands of the women. Both women knew that they were going to die.
Voskuil: During the first bombardment Dahler had been pinned down to the ground by an incendiary bomb. The infectious material in the bomb kept on burning. In Makassar her leg was amputated to the hip. Once she realized what had happened she lost the will to live and died several hours later…. We didn’t even know that she had died when she was returned in a Red Cross ambulance. We only realized it when her inert body was taken out on a stretcher, covered by a sarong. She was interred immediately.
On Thursday, the 26th of July, we took Freddy Paul back from Makassar, where his leg had been amputated to the knee; he arrived dead in the ambulance. We stood guard during the night by his body. He looked like an adult, but was only 16.
Then Toos Hoogeveen became ill, it seemed to be malaria, but it turned out to be rabies.
Seth Paul: On the 26th of July Freddy Paul was returned to our camp at 5 PM. One leg was amputated. He was placed on a bier in a small Ambon house, close to the cemetery. I can still see him lying there…. His eyes closed, a stubborn lock of hair on his forehead. The nurse on duty (I think it was Mrs. Hartmans) burned incense because, according to a believe in the tropics, he had stayed above the earth much too long. If he had lived it would have been a very sad story for him. Apparently at first his leg was amputated under the knee, but then a piece of shrapnel was found in his hip, and a second amputation was necessary. The two injuries, so close together, proved to be too much for Freddy.
The following day, on the 27th of July Freddy was buried at noon, the hottest part of the day. The wait was for the family members who came from the jungle camp. We watched the family approach in the distance. During the funeral service all of us had a bad time. Especially Normiek Galstaun, one of Freddie’s friends whom he had stopped talking to because of a misunderstanding. Because Freddy was hard of hearing he couldn’t always understand what was being said when we talked to each other. When we laughed he thought that we laughed at him. That was the reason for the wrong impression.
In the meantime the words DUTCH WOMEN were put on the field with chalk; next to the letters colored pieces of red, white, and blue cloth were put down. At 6 PM six Liberators’ took a dive to take a closer look at the words. They disappeared after they had dropped pamphlets, that drifted out of reach of the camp because of the wind.
On the 28th of July a plane flew over during the night, everyone went outside and hid under the trees, because there were no shelters in the jungle camp. We became very nervous when the first bombs didn’t only fall on the airfield, but also on several sites close to the jungle camp. There is nothing worse than a nighttime bombardment when you can hear the bombs fall but can’t see the deadly load come down.
Toos Hoogeveen, a striking woman and the Governor’s daughter, celebrated her last birthday on the 29th of July. She played bridge, a game my mother and I also enjoyed very much. She was wearing her best clothes on this occasion and wore high heels. A bit of lipstick gave color to her lips, an apparition from high society; that’s how her last birthday was remembered.
Valderpoort: July 27. This evening at about 6 PM a Lockheed suddenly flew low, at tree top level, over the old camp. The tension was unbearable; everybody expected bombs to fall any moment. The plane returned again, and again, right over the trees. Some people prayed aloud. For the first time I experienced a fear that I could hardly contain. Finally the plane left and dropped bombs by the dam and on the airfield. A while later several planes circled the bombed areas. This lasted for an hour; when will there be an end to this horror?
July 28. For the first time the people in the jungle camp had a cup of coffee in the morning, something that those below had always had access to. The smokers received a pack of cigarettes for which they were very grateful. Chores for the kitchen, pumping water, sifting, winnowing, pounding rice, etc. were normalized more and more. Those who still were afraid to go to the old camp were not forced to do so. There were plenty of volunteers, also for the ‘water chain’. I also saw to it that an announcement board was placed in this camp for all the orders and necessary communications. Clean up crews regularly go to the old camp and many things are gleaned from the ashes. Unfortunately there are many that are dishonest and keep some things for themselves.
The ‘land’ boys go to the remaining barracks near the pigsties to clean up the mess down there. The ‘land’ girls pick and wash vegetables, and also help with the general clean up and carrying water. Here in the woods the announcement board does not prove to be adequate. Many people read the messages, but I assigned 4 ladies to announce additional information. All day long people are needed to carry empty buckets and washtubs to the kitchen and haul containers with porridge, thick soup, rice, and vegetables back to our camp. Additional carriers are needed for coffee, drinking water, diet food, and other things. The road between the old camp and the jungle camp are very visible from the air, because it is gray and flattened by many feet. The rice paddy dikes that we had to walk over in the beginning have been smoothed out. In the old camp the rebuilding of bathroom facilities and latrines in complex C have started.
Bathing poses a problem. You can take a ‘bath’ behind a bush with a bucket of water that you hauled from a well that is 10 minutes away, or you can walk down to the old camp and take a bath in a partially burned bathroom in one of the houses. Many have become careless and stand nude in front of the natives or passing Japs. These women have been warned, but they continue to ignore these admonitions.
The distribution of porridge is going well. During the first few days the people in the jungle camp received some hard biscuits for breakfast. Then porridge was first made available for kids up to 5 years old, then the older children were included until finally, everyone received porridge in the morning. This started with 1 ladle of pap, then 2, and finally 3 scoops per person. The noon meal was OK, rice with a kind of stew and a piece of cassava; supper was a thick rice soup. Then a cup of tea or coffee was given in the morning and boiled water during the day. It isn’t much, but at least no one needs to drink the dangerous well water anymore, which was done by many in the beginning, because it was too hot to haul things in the burning sun and people became thirsty. But the dysentery started to spread.
July, 30. Another one died. Mrs. Hoogeveen-de Haze Winkelman died because of her encounter with a rabid dog. She endured the horrible consequences and was fully aware of what awaited her in the end. She accepted her fate courageously. It’s a pity that the serum didn’t help her. She died this evening at 7 PM, fully conscious and serene. First Nelly Filet, and now Mrs. Hoogeveen. Mrs. Dahler died because of the injuries she received during the bombing raid, but she would have died of rabies eventually. Those remaining that were bitten by a dog were Mrs. Tielman, and Mrs. Vreede, they seem to be relatively healthy at this point. The longer it takes the better chance they have to survive this deadly disease. Whatever is the will of God. This sad time depresses the camp people even more. Each dog is feared.
Voskuil: The bell and Bellemee were taken to the jungle camp, but within a week she was back to her usual place. She would sound the alarm in the jungle camp and this infuriated the commandant. After one day of ringing the bell constantly during this harrowing time, two younger guard women replaced her. When airplanes approached Bellemee would first take care of her dog and her possessions and then ring the bell. That was a major mistake during these days when everyone ran for his or her life to try to find a covered shelter. Four days before Toos Hoogeveen died I once ran together with her. I suddenly told her that I would get down right where we were, but she wouldn’t hear of it and ran on.
Monday, July 30. The commandant summoned the leaders of the camp for the second time since the fire. He told them that the barracks would be rebuilt in 2 months. He added that we had to be patient and trust him, because otherwise he couldn’t stay. We had to ignore the rumors and treat them like blowing out a match. The leaders would not be allowed to make their own thoughts known; only his ideas should be accepted.
When the meeting ended and several leaders had already exited the building, he nonchalantly announced that Mrs. Deibler would be the leader, pointing to the jungle camp. He added in a figurative manner that because 1 bamboo stick wasn’t very strong, 3 would be needed, and Mrs. Herdes and Mrs. Luyendijk would assist her. Mrs. Deibler turned white and told him that she couldn’t do it, but he was insistent. And when someone asked what to do with Mrs. Valderpoort he commented that she was too tired and too old.
The following day so many protested the appointment of Mrs. Deibler as camp leader that the commandant approached Bartstra and presided over a meeting on the 31st of July in the jungle camp. When several women wanted Mrs. Valderpoort to stay on as the leader he became impatient and told Valderpoort in a gruff voice that she had asked to be relieved of her position before, and that she made things difficult now.
Toos Hoogeveen died on Monday, the 30th of July, and was buried the following day. When we watched the digging of the grave, it was like it would be for a living person, she was one of us! The way she died was the way she lived, courageous and confident. She had written a farewell letter to her husband. She had received a small toy pan from her mother; it had to be returned. On the Thursday after the catastrophe the Japs interviewed her, but she wouldn’t say anything bad about the Allies, something they wanted her to do.
Seth Paul: When she felt that the end was near she warned the doctor. She grabbed her woven mat and asked to be isolated in a small cabin near the cassava garden. It was her last walk by the Ambon camp, the small houses on the other side of the cow’s meadow, the slaughterhouse, right through the pigsties. The doctor offered her some pain relievers to soften the unbearable pain she would suffer. She refused because she didn’t feel that the valuable morphine should be wasted on her. On the way to the cabin she said goodbye to everyone and smiled when everyone wished her strength. Once she had reached the cabin she said goodbye to her attendant and requested for the last time to nail the door shut.
It seemed like nailing Jesus to the cross. How she must have suffered; she gave her life so that others would not be endangered.
Many names of war heroes have been saved. Brave deeds…. But how should this kind of bravery be described when no guns were used?
Valderpoort: July 31. The funeral took place this afternoon. Just now there had been a meeting of the barrack leaders. A letter from Mrs. Joustra let me off, I could either come or not. Since I knew that the people felt ill at ease, especially in the morning, I stayed so that I could take actions in case the alarm was sounded. I knew that the barrack leaders would give me the particulars of the meeting. When they returned I heard that the commandant had held a speech and he had said that since there was a war going on we shouldn’t quibble about little things, and that they had to obey him unconditionally, and that he would do the thinking for them, etc. During the following question period, it was pointed out that the Dutch flag and the words “Dutch Women” were put down in the old camp, but that nothing indicated that most of the women were in the jungle camp. Shouldn’t the jungle camp benefit from safety measures too? Mrs. Joustra displayed a disdainful attitude and treated the ladies like bothersome, dumb kids. She said that such ignorant questions should not be asked, etc. The mood was below par, especially since it was made clear that everything that was brought to Mrs. Joustra’s and the commandant’s attention was not worth listening to. The commandant had difficulty understanding everything because of a language barrier. When some of the leaders had already left the schoolroom where the meeting was held, the commandant announced casually to the rest of the ladies that from now on Mrs. Deibler would be the camp leader. Everyone was stunned and they asked immediately what would become of Mrs. Valderpoort. He answered that she was too tired and needed to be replaced by a younger woman. Mrs. Herdes became upset and told the remaining women that it was terrible to put an American woman, who didn’t speak our language or knew about our customs, in charge of about 1,600 women and children while Mrs. Valderpoort had been ready day and night to take care of us. Mrs. Joustra and Jamadji didn’t take kindly to these words. They blew this event out of proportion and accused Mrs. Herdes of insubordination. Jamdji came here in the afternoon and ignored me. I had given everything to Mrs. Deibler in the presence of Mrs. Joustra. Mrs. Deibler cried all the time, because she didn’t feel that she could do the job, she approached Jamadji and finally got him to agree that she didn’t have to do it. Later on I heard that Mrs. den Hond had told him that it would be a very dumb thing to push his plan through
After that he called Mrs. Bartstra and told her to take over the leadership. But she also was not prepared to do it and told him pointedly that it was below par to treat me the way he did. He could have talked to me first and she wouldn’t take over my job until he had talked to me. Before Mrs. Bartstra talked to Jamadji I had told her to accept the position as camp leader because I could not continue since he behaved so atrociously towards me. The ladies in the old camp, headed by Mrs. Joustra, would take any opportunity to work against me.
After her meeting with Jamadji Mrs. Bartstra came to me and asked me shyly if I would have dinner with him; I did. During his conversation, in presence of Mrs. Joustra, he told me that I was tired, and that I should let younger people take over. When I asked why he thought that I was tired, he said that I put too much emphasis on unimportant matters. Then I asked him to give me an example and he cited my requests to have the leaking roofs repaired, we had no latrines, no wells, no blankets, etc. Those matters are unimportant during these trying times. I responded that since these requests would benefit 700 women and 800 children those matters were indeed important. He laughed uneasily, looked in front of him and didn’t say anything else. I then asked him if he would allow me to say something, not as a Dutch national to a Japanese national, but as person to person. He let me talk. I told him that I thought it best to end my days as a leader, not because I was tired, after all, I was neither tired physically nor mentally, but because of the way that I was being treated by him, and I was tired of him. I added that I had often wondered how my Dutch way of doing things would fit in with the Japanese ways. But when I needed to say something he was being so unreasonable that he ignored his own ways of doing things. But when some young, dumb woman, without any responsibility, living and thinking selfishly, talks to him in a most affable manner, he would respond in a very friendly way. Why is that? I don’t understand.
He scratched himself on the head, obviously embarrassed, coughed a bit, but was at a loss for words. I asked him if he had understood what I had said. He said that he did, but didn’t know how to explain it in Malay. Then I said: “Surprise”, and got up without asking for his permission to do so. I said good bye and left.
Such treatment can be expected from a Jap, especially when he feels that he can’t impress you, no matter how loudly he bellows. I find it painful to watch how some women turn with the tide to stay in the favor of the Jap so that they can profit as much as possible from such a relationship.
This evening A. Bartstra met with the commandant and it was decided that tomorrow he will have a meeting with the barrack leaders here in the camp, and he will announce the change in leadership.
BOLOKAN/ Welleman: 7/7/45. De Neve died several days ago.
Our second water buffalo was consumed long ago, and now we get rice and veggies only, 450 gram a day. Yet I feel fit, but am much skinnier, like everybody else. I fashion tobacco from sirih leaves (sirih is a plant with a peppery flavor-OY) and it tastes pretty good when I smoke it.
Tomorrow is Sunday, we have the day off, except in the afternoon from 2.30 PM to 4 PM, when we need to clean up around the area.
The weather is always bad and outside it is a muddy mess. But I keep telling myself that the war won’t last much longer and we will be freed unexpectedly any day now.
7/14/45. The supply of food is a mess. No more rice, cassava also is not available, only a few leafy vegetables like cassava leaves and native ferns. I begin feeling weaker by the day. Until yesterday I could do a decent day’s work, but today I allow myself to indulge in resting. I have lost 11 kg.
The third water buffalo never arrived and we’ve been here almost 7 weeks. Since several days ago there’s no more salt, so you can imagine how hungry we are.
Colder temperatures are getting to me now. Sometimes the morning temperatures measure 12 degrees Celsius. I still hope for a quick end to the war.
7/17/45. I’ve been down for several days and feel miserable because of hunger. At a critical moment 800 kg. rice arrived in the camp with some salt. This will feed almost 600 men for 3 days. On Sunday morning we harvested some yams and that evening we had a good meal of yams, rice, and some vegetables. But most of the time we get nothing more than wild vegetables, cassava leaves, and a bit of egg plant. But every day we still get a weak cup of coffee, and so now and then we find a hot pepper or an onion. That Sunday morning I stilled my hunger by eating a raw sweet potato. You can see that life here is not bed of roses.
We still have a lot of rain with fog and chilly temperatures, but I feel a lot better than a few days ago. Together with Hoogeveen we are improving the kitchen where we get a bit extra to eat at times. Other than that, Bertus de Graaff is the man who manages to get us something from the company store to cheer us up.
When I bathe, a bit like the Dutch do, I don’t want to look at my body. But we keep our spirits up. I often wonder how you’re doing and hope for the best. Our host’s businesses are hopelessly messed up.
7/22/45. It’s going better now. Yesterday we received 5 buffaloes and today we got another one. It is a beautiful day after days of rain. We ate well, very tasty food with enough salt and sambal, and a delicious cup of coffee afterwards. At least for our group of 6 men. Every day I visit the wooden bowl where the roasted coffee beans are pulverized, and I scrape out whatever is left at the bottom. Today there happened to be enough left over so that the six of us could enjoy a cup of strong java. Today it was ‘yung king’ (?) again, I can still smoke a pipe before going on guard duty. I can feel myself getting stronger. Last Friday I went to a small market, about 2 km. from here. I hauled a large bag with vegetables on my bare feet and walked along a muddy horse path. It was no easy task as I am thin as a rail now. But next week promises to be better, the day before yesterday we received 1,000 kg of rice. We still have some sambal and a lot of other things, which fills us with new cheer. Each night I thank God for what He gave us that day.
Belksma is gravely ill; we lost hope for him 2 days ago, but he seems to have passed a critical time because of a blood transfusion. We hope for the best.
7/24/45. This morning Belksma died and, while he’s being buried, I am writing about it. It is even more tragic now that we received your cards today. I am very happy to read that your spirits are high. I too, am hopeful that we shall soon be together again. Today is the birthday of Roel’s wife, and we celebrated this occasion with half a liter of coffee. My stomach is acting up again and I’m taking it easy. I have started to practice the Malay language again because I don’t feel like doing manual labor.
Yesterday I helped haul rice and corn from Balokan, but I am going to quit.
The Japanese attitude toward us has improved remarkably, but food distribution remains bad. There are no extra supplies; we live from day to day.
This morning was very chilly, 10 degrees Celsius.
Of late high-ranking Japanese officers often visit us, while Allied planes fly high overhead. The Japanese camp commander declared this morning that he was not our enemy.
Pretty soon we’ll have a candlelight dinner with buffalo meat. Who can top that!
7/29/45. Sunday evening. Today the aged missionary Jaffray died and was interred. There are now 4 graves on the hill that was designated to be our cemetery close to the camp.
The weather has improved remarkably, but the quality of the food remains so-so: 400 grams of rice a day and we barely get buffalo meat twice a week. We do get a lot of wild vegetables, a little bit of egg plant, and so now and then some squash, but no eggs, oil, peanuts, hot peppers, coconut, bananas, or fish. Hunger only. But this evening we have a good meal, because meat and salt were included in the menu.
Otherwise I’ve been in bed for a week, my stomach is very sensitive and my bowel movements are not the best. Maybe I worked too hard and in my weakened condition there were immediate reactions. We have not had any coffee for the last few days; we have had to do with warm water.
Oh well, we shall hope to be free soon, and I am grateful to be alive.
MAKASSAR/Booy: July 1, 1945. Well, we started our second semester, and I dare to bet that this will be the last one in captivity. Just now we were told that we need to work only half a day. We didn’t expect it since we had half a day last Sunday too.
Today 9 buffaloes were delivered. Since two of them were oxen, Yosh claimed that they were not to be slaughtered but had to be kept for breeding purposes. How wonderfully optimistic! Day and night bombs are dropped around Makassar at intervals. The city itself is being ignored. Yesterday night a Hei-Ho camp was hit, resulting in 140 dead. We have no way of knowing if this really happened, but enough bombs are being dropped. Along the Beach Way heavy anti aircraft guns have been installed.
7/2. Yesterday evening a continuous knocking sound was heard on the fence behind the bathroom of the Yanks. Nobody reacted, but our captain was informed. He thought it better to ignore it since it could be a Jap trap. The knocking sounds became louder so that we could hear it on our ward. Next the commandant of the guards was alerted who posted an extra guard. It was odd that he didn’t call out or tried to find out who the person or persons were that made all that noise. Later on it seemed that some thought to have seen Yoshida, the Sutadjo, and Notomy in native dress. It was said that they randomly knocked at several places to find out if any strangers were in the camp. We are all very glad that no one fell into this dirty trap because there would have been hell to pay for us, but they lost a lot of face.
7/3. Yesterday evening and during the night ‘Oscar’ flew by so often and so close to us that it was downright frightening. Every time they came by I thought that we were going to be hit, but the bombs didn’t start falling until 11.45 PM East of Makassar. Many bombs were dropped, not only during the night, but also this morning. I don’t understand how anything could be left standing after all that.
Rumor has it that 36 ships are moored by Balikpapan, but no landing took place yet. Instead, small boats reconnoitered the Jap defenses.
7/5. Yesterday we didn’t return home until 1 PM, so I couldn’t write.
Yesterday evening a certain Englishman by the name of Till suddenly went crazy. He was put in a cell where he made a lot of noise, especially in the evenings.
Yesterday morning another native was found dead. On Sunday we had applied power to the electric fence again. This time it was a native policeman. When his relatives showed up they received his body that was put neatly in a coffin and they were given 40 kg of rice also. They were told that if the rice was gone they could apply for more at the police station.
Yesterday evening a new guard commandant discovered a pan with a double bottom. The commandant had been on duty only two weeks. When he opened the pan he discovered that the bottom was covered with eggs. He warned the smuggler but allowed him to keep the eggs. We couldn’t believe our ears, if any other commandant had found the eggs it would have been reported to Yosh and all of us would have been punished. The question now is how long these pans will have to be left at home.
The slate by the gate must list all those who cannot walk or are ill on a daily basis.
7/6. Finally the landing on Balikpapan became fact. The landing took place on the 1st of July at 9 AM. Next month we can expect war stories, and we can expect one-engine fighters in the skies as well as more alarms and a lot more activity overhead. This morning we were sent home half an hour earlier because 180 planes were expected. It turned out that only 15 rounds of bombs were dropped.
Now it became clear why we had to make so many grappling irons. They are being used to facilitate the climbing of trees. They throw the iron into the tree and pull themselves up by the attached rope.
The realization that freedom might be near has brought renewed excitement; we can also expect cannon fire.
Tonight at 11 PM all leaders of the different work crews must report to the captain. Yoshida told us that a special group will be formed and men will be chosen from the separate crews. There will be 18 cobblers under the leadership of Blankenzee, 5 carpenters, 5 metal smiths, 15 turners(?) headed by Engineer Tarkenskeen, 6 men from the needle makers headed by Everhardt, 10 mechanics for cars and bicycles under Ketting Mesman, and 10 strong Americans under Tommy Moore. He once was a tramp in new York but now he is one of my best friends. I will head all these men. We still don’t know what this is all about, but the possibility exists that the Japs will move into the mountains and have this group work for them until the very last moment.
Our position is difficult because we are supposed to think that they are still trying to conquer Australia, which is totally absurd. Slowly but surely we are moving towards the end.
7/9. We know a bit more now. Separate lists have been made; list no. 1 is for specialists, no. 2 for those over 50, no.3 for those who are familiar with the areas around Makassar. List no. 4 shows the names of those who are permanently ill, and no. 5 lists those that are ill but are expected to recover soon. It seems that the whole camp will be decentralized.
7/10. Yesterday was a most unfortunate one for me. With the help of two American carpenters we put a door in the air raid shelter in the yard of the Sutadjo. Behind the houses close to a pond I caught a beautiful large tomcat. After Matthews, one of the carpenters, had skinned him, we took the meat back to the camp, pretending that we had to get another door. Hugo, a Maltese cook, would prepare the dish, but the results were most disappointing. He had forgotten all about it and literally burned the meat. Lordy, were we ever angry that such a beautiful piece of meat was ruined. If this wasn’t bad luck I don’t know what else could’ve been worse.
I fixed two kerosene cans so that I can put all my belongings in them on short notice.
7/12. The nightly visits by ‘Oscar’ continue, these are also called ‘airmail’. We heard them at about 11 PM, then intermittently until 5 AM. Bombs are dropped every night, but there is hardly any daytime activity.
Two days ago a buffalo was butchered. Yesterday the Japs had 5 pigs slaughtered; the heads of the animals were for the camp. After the cooks and the officers had their share nothing was left for the rest of the camp. But from a private source I had a delicious stew of pork with tomatoes, egg plant, and a boiled egg. So now and then something comes my way and these are genuine feasts, if they don’t burn it up.
Nothing else happened in the large arena.
7/13. The ladies of the night told us that friends landed in Madjene, about 320 km. north from here. I cannot believe it.
7/15. After two days we realize that the landing was wishful thinking.
I have become the proud owner of a pair of beautiful new Australian boots. I now am well dressed till the end of the war. I don’t know where they came from originally, only that I got them for a good price. In spite of the fact that there is not supposed to be any money in the camp, business thrives. I could write a few pages about this kind of trade. However, I will wait for a few months when I may spend a restful period in the mountains (!). I shall write extensively so that I can enjoy it for years to come.
It is Sunday, but we don’t have half the day off. For the last few days we’ve been busy working on a proto type for a saddle for pack animals. We haven’t come up with the right one yet. As soon as one is Okayed we will have to make 1,000 of them. The Japs’ plans are very ambitious.
7/17. Yesterday late in the afternoon I drove an armored vehicle for the first time; it had belonged to our former city guard. It stood next to the swimming pool with two flat tires. After Yosh and I changed the wheels I had to drive back home. I offered to ride a motorcycle, but he didn’t like the idea because he would be invisible and it could have been mistaken for an attack from the POWs.
Just now 23 bombers flew by Makassar. The alarm lasted for an hour. “Oscar’ didn’t show up for 4 days, but the moon did. Tonight the 1st quarter will begin.
The Imperial Navy has recruited several hundreds of civilians Japs. However, there are no ships, but horses. Each Jap learns to ride and trains for life in the mountains. A sailor on a horse indicates that he is either drunk or fleeing. They are still stoned, and fleeing is in their future.
7/19. Yesterday 18 heavily wounded pigs were brought in that were butchered here. The meat was taken to Makassar and our camp received the heads and the offal. It was said that the pigs had come from Kampili, and 2 women were killed by the machine guns of P-38’s.
Before we take off for work we must deposit a parcel with the most necessary clothing and mosquito netting in the air raid shelter. We will pick up the parcel on the way home. At night we also must take the package with us, but without the mosquito netting, which stays in the shelter.
7 Yanks landed on Manudju, 11 on Gorontalo, and 7 on Poso. They took natives with them, promising them the world, then killed a third of them, captured another third, and the last third managed to escape. According to the Jap the fight over Celebes had begun.
7/24. It is Tuesday 1 PM. We have the afternoon off because we had to work for Sagjodjo on Sunday afternoon, while the rest of the camp was off. On Saturday afternoon at 12.30 Yosh summoned me. It seemed that he wanted 65 unfinished handcuffs finished immediately. A lot needed to be done and it was impossible for us to do this without special equipment. Therefore 4 others and I went to the machine shop. We even worked in the evening. This was the first time that I handled a lathe, I didn’t do badly at all. We just finished the handcuffs at noon, and we had the rest of the afternoon off. Yosh had promised it but no one believed it.
Not much happened during the last few days, although a few significant events took place. After the 25th no traffic is allowed in the evening, and the cells which were used for storage of machinery have been emptied, and are now used for the storage of rice, corn, dried vegetables, and salt; enough for a whole week.
It seems that the women’s camp in Kampili has been totally annihilated. There were a lot of casualties, but the Jap doesn’t think it important enough to announce the names of the victims.
The paper mentioned that despite the allied intelligence, which must have known that this was a women’s camp, they still engulfed the camp in flames and then machine-gunned the area. Cattle such as buffaloes, pigs, chickens, etc. were burned up. The women were taken to a different location and the Japs found new ammunition for a terrific propaganda ploy.
7/25. Wednesday 11 PM. There are still 795 men in the camp, at 6 PM 416 left. The Jap Army took charge, one of their officers told them that they would be taken to Java, and since there would be plenty of provisions available there, they didn’t need to take anything with them. Each person was allowed to take a small plate and a mug; even their clothing consisted of the bare necessities like underwear. Books and notepads were taboo as well as buckets, crates, and backpacks. Anything that required space had to be left behind.
They had to fall in at 12.30 PM and received medical exams until 5 PM. They ate outside at 5.30 PM and were not allowed to talk to us. Of the 40 men on my ward 17 left. When I left for work this morning I had only 64 men instead of 140. Yesterday evening we all had to fall in. The lists that had been made earlier were worthless. Yoshida, who was very drunk, and Notomy came to reorganize our work schedules but instead they made a mess. Everyone who was not able to march 60 km. had to fall out. Added to all these men were the full blooded Dutch who were familiar with the area around Makassar, the officers, 117 sick men who could walk for 2 km, and a group of 46 newcomers. All in all there were 416 men. The stronger men were left behind. It was determined that that they left with 7 native canoes, prao’s, with as much as they started out with 3 ½ years ago.
The stories about the women’s camp were grossly exaggerated; the official tally was that 1 woman and 1 small boy were killed. There were several that were lightly wounded. The Japs didn’t want to move them, and the camp now sported a large DUTCH sign, which would be visible from the air. We don’t know if all this is true.
It is also debatable if those 416 men will reach Java. Rumor has it that the shores of Madjene were being fired upon. But everything indicates that the end is near. Since we are not allowed to take a lot with us I have decided that I will put all my memoirs in a tin can and solder it shut. I will then bury it in the morning in the ground of our work place. I hope to be able to retrieve it ere long. This diary means too much to me to have it fall in the hands of the Japs. As for me, I don’t mind a troublesome end to the war; we probably will be taken inland, but I don’t care. Physically I am in better shape than I have been in a long time. When I saw this coming I got rid of my most valuable assets, such as my gold ring. I traded it for eggs and other food items. During the last year I had about 2 eggs a day plus meat from the cats we caught, and pork from the Japanese kitchen via a POW cook who liked cigarettes and hot peppers with his rice. So now and then Tommy Moore and I caught a duck which belonged to the Japs, and the cooks made us a delicious meal in exchange for some of the meat. That’s why I am in pretty good health now. We aren’t allowed to have any money so we cannot buy anything officially. But if you know your way around and you know the right people there is plenty available. Almost every day I eat an old shredded coconut, which provides me with the necessary fat, and it is very tasty. Our camp chauffeur Prins, who has been a friend since before the war, brings me eggs from outside the city. If you know how to pay you can get all kinds of things. You cannot compare our situation with those during peacetime. The Japs stole everything from us and now we steal from them. Since the Japs steal from each other and there is no administration, nothing can be traced. When I saw a few hundred other POW’s between 6 boards, I decided there and then that I had to take care of myself; the Japs certainly wouldn’t do it. To put all sentiments aside, many were buried at the Maros weg with a gold wedding band, which could have saved their lives if they had traded the ring for the proper medications. They couldn’t trade a cold piece of metal which was a wedding ring or an heirloom piece, when it could have saved their lives. I am sure that my father wouldn’t mind if he knew that his ring brought me good health under the circumstances. The end of this unnatural life may be close at hand or it may be months away, but it will come. Tomorrow I will start a new notebook, which I hope I can hold on to, so that I can follow up on whatever, will happen now.
Great things are on the way, which will probably also bring many problems, but I am very optimistic. Behind the clouds the sun of freedom shines and I will enter a new stage of my life. I hope that it will be a life of hard work, because toil gives happiness and contentment in life. It is an art to live for today, and not in the past or in the future, because today is the future of the past, I don’t want to forget that. Now I can say: “Goodbye diary, until after the war”.
Makassar, July 25, 1945. 11 PM. Prisoner of War Camp (Mariso).
7/27/45. A new notebook. The day before yesterday 416 men left after an emotional good bye. People began to move and clean up immediately after the men left, because it was a mess. But yesterday at 7 PM more than 200 men returned: 48 Navy, Army 59, and 109 English men, 206 men. They had already boarded a very small tanker when they were told to disembark, because about 200 Jap soldiers had to come aboard. Those that left were all the Americans, 15 men and Mr. Fisher the commandant, 5 English officers and 49 of their men, 4 Navy officers and 2 sailors, 14 Army officers and Warrant Officers and men, and about 50 newcomers. Those that returned had just about lost everything because the Japs inspected everything before they left. They were moved into separate barracks and stayed under the command of the Jap Army. They did have to work; even those that were ill, or couldn’t walk 2 km. have been put to work. Those that volunteered to go are very sorry that they did. 60 men returned to our workplace.
7/28/45. There is a change of command in our camp. Okobo and Notomy have been promoted to 2nd lieutenants and will leave soon. We don’t know what will happen now, but it is rumored that Yoshida will stay on, and that the second in command Juno, also nicknamed Formosa, will take over the camp administration. Juno showed a remarkably supportive attitude towards us when he first came here. Kakoi, who has been here since the beginning, will take over the kitchen administration. He held that position 3 ½ years ago. I don’t believe that our condition got worse. One guard commandant apparently said yesterday evening that the warring parties have started to hold talks. We don’t know if this is true.
7/29/45. It is Sunday, and even although we just had half a day off we have another half day off. Those who returned have come under the regular camp administration again.
Last night a lot of bombs were dropped on the south and east sides of Makassar. However, I didn’t hear a thing. Almost nothing happens during the day. The Allies don’t seem to be in a hurry. If they want to retake everything before the monsoon comes they had better move fast, in 2 days it will be August.
Among those that left was my neighbor Hardonk, I now have my former roomy Mook in the next bed. He still suffers from pellagra, but we will help him get better. Through Yoshida I saw to it that he is now in charge of the twine fabrication. It is a restful job after having spent 6 months in the hospital. The old cord boss, Kloppenburg, left; he was one of the 8 who had a separate ward. One of our group of eight, C.J. Smith, died. Brouwer of the Army Engineers, and Graafland are still in the hospital. Boudry, Emmen, and Kloppenburg left; and Mook and I, also of the Army Engineers, are the only two left working.
7/30/45. Now that there are 200 men less, several barracks are taken down. The oddest thing is that Yosh asked the captain if there would be enough room if those 200 would return.
7/31/45. Tomorrow a vice admiral will come to inspect our camp. Everything gets a good cleaning and a first inspection. Yesterday evening it became officially known that our group had safely reached Surabaya, on the East coast of Java.
Those that have relatives in Kampili have been asked to make donations to their kin so that they can get pigs, chickens, etc. in Kampili.
It’s Tommy Moore’s birthday today and in honor of this day we gave several coconuts and sugar to the kitchen. The cooks made a delicious coconut cake. At the same time I managed to get a can of mung beans and a ripe papaya so that our evening meal became a feast. Too bad that the ‘roof hares’ (cats) are so few, otherwise we would have really had a good dinner. The kitchen does not provide any meat anymore, during the last 10 days there even has not been any offal.
KAMPILI. Seth Paul: Several days of quiet. No engine sounds during the day or at night. But on the 1st of August 12 Liberators flew over our camp and left a white line. Of course we thought that they had discovered our jungle camp and that this was a warning to leave the premises. Indeed, on the 17th of July the same procedure took place. We were scared but nothing else happened. On the 2nd of August a P-38 appeared.
Valderpoort: 1August. Finally Dr. Goedbloed has been put to work in our camp and she lives with us in house A. Fortunately Jamadji honored my urgent request to place a physician in the camp on a permanent basis. The cases of dysentery are on the increase, and there is a lot of work to be done here for a doctor.
This morning at 10 AM Jamadji held a meeting as requested by A. Bartstra; he told the barrack leaders that there was a war going on and that we had to obey orders unconditionally. He added that since I was tired of all the responsibilities a younger person should take my place. Because of yesterday’s events he had changed his course and didn’t mention Mrs. Deibler, but called on A. Bartstra right away. They all had to voice an opinion, but those who felt that they were comfortable with me and wished that I stayed in my position didn’t get a chance to finish. As soon as he realized which direction they took he would say that it was their opinion and it didn’t count. He would only consider the opinions of the camp as a whole. When he was told that this was what the camp wanted he quickly changed the subject. He would get angry and repeated that since it was war, orders had to be obeyed. It all came down to the fact that he wanted things done his way and nobody else’s opinion had any value. Let’s forget about ‘reasoning’, things will change soon.
In the meantime he commanded the three men to voice their opinions. These less than brave gents of creation didn’t come straight out to say what they thought to avoid the wrath of the feared despot. Alas, we got used to this attitude.
The alarm interrupted the meeting and everyone scattered while I was ordered by him to sound the bell. Twelve bombers came over and flew in the direction of Makassar where they dropped the bombs. The awful thing was that they kept flying over our camp. For most of us this is always a sobering experience considering what we went through before. Young and old hid under the bushes, holding their breath and listening, or praying out loud awaiting the outcome. It is terrible to realize that these are really our friends that make us go into hiding. Our trust is gone.
Several times planes passed over the old camp where they could clearly see the colors of our flag and the words: DUTCH WOMEN. But so far they have not responded.
After the alarm I handed over the business to A. Bartstra in the presence of Mrs. Joustra. Mrs Herdes had to swallow a bitter pill when she found that her position as head of the food distribution and barrack leader was not being appreciated. She had done an excellent job and she didn’t deserve this. All this was the doing of Mrs. Joustra who doesn’t tolerate anyone in her environment who shows strong leadership, because it might erode her own power. When I made a 2nd request to live in 5b in the old camp it also was denied. He felt that my experience and my calming influence, especially during the bombardments, was worth more where I was. He always contradicts himself because, after all, I am an accomplished leader. Since A. Bartstra is not able to keep a cool head during times of crises and I seem to have a calming influence on everybody, I have resigned myself and will stay in the camp.
2 August. Early this morning Mrs. Hemsing, who I had appointed to be a border guard, took me to a spot close to a spring. No one is supposed to use it, but trespassing is common place. Jamadji displayed his knack for sadistic teasing when he ordered the spring closed to the public. The spring would provide us with a wonderful opportunity to bathe and launder. But the women are expected to walk about 10 minutes to available well water 40 meters away from the barracks in the burning sun. It is therefore no surprise that someone uses the spring at times. Since I still wanted to work, but didn’t want to be near the place of our leadership, I had asked to be a guard for this spring. I had just arrived at my post close to the spring when Mrs. Duin, who was on guard nearby, came to visit me. She wanted to explain a complaint, which had been brought to me about her, but I had already decided that the complaint was false because of the evidence that was presented proved to be false. Just then Jamadji came trotting towards us on his horse. We greeted him and he asked us what we were doing there. I told him that I was assigned to keep guard at the spring. He became agitated, told me that I was too far away from the barracks and ran off on his horse. Shortly thereafter the order came that Mrs. Duin and I had to appear at the office. Apparently he had shown up at house A in a violent mood, and people feared for both of us. What happened then was so horrible that I don’t feel like writing about it. It has been etched in my memory. I can only say that today God was a powerful force during this trying time. He gave me peace and strength to pull through. He heard the hundreds of prayers, which came from the camp and surrounded me like a strong and impenetrable wall. The love and the compassion from everyone shown me, when I returned unharmed, was deeply moving. Being a Dutch Christian I don’t have to blame myself for anything that happened. That’s why I can continue, newly reborn, trusting in God and waiting for the task that He has created for me. It is a pity that those who started this mess, could not have foreseen the consequences. I don’t exactly know who or what preceded this episode but it all became clear when Mrs. Joustra freed me in name of Jamadji. She said that I could go home and that Jamadji hoped that I was reborn and that I should forget about all the problems I experienced.
While trying to cope with the misery in the jungle camp the commandant had subjected us to, I once had blurted out to Mrs. Joustra that inequities existed. In a fit of indignation, I told her that the ‘ladies’ Nanning, v. Lochem, and Ten Boom slept very comfortably in the house of the commandant, while we slept in virtual cages in the jungle camp. That these ‘ladies’ and their children were well fed eating eggs, chicken, fruit, etc. by playing up to the Jap, the rest of us never ever saw any of that. I said that hundreds of women were upset about this less than honorable attitude on the part of these women , which hurt the Dutch soul. She defended herself by saying that it could not be otherwise which, of course, was pure nonsense.
I am afraid that one of his vassals had briefed him about my outpouring of indignation, which made him angry. And yet I know, from the different talks I’ve had with him in the past, that he had no respect for these women, and that he was ashamed. I will not delve into this episode anymore, God knows what happened. That is the most important thing.
My children don’t have to be ashamed of their mother.
For many women it was a difficult day when they received word that their
husbands had died in the POW camp in Makassar. The deaths occurred from the end
of January to the end of July. The ladies Kooistra, Dirks, Berendsen,
Gravelotte, van Loon, Nol, ten Hafe, v.d. Velde, Renvoy, v. Room, Grebe, and
Evenraad became widows. The father of
There now is a chance for us to move to the houses below. After the blow-up between Jamadji and me I have pulled back and am staying here. Still, doing nothing in this kind of environment is depressing for me.
Joustra: Jamadji pursued the rebuilding of the camp vigorously. The charred remains of the old barracks were removed. The most wonderful things appeared. Dinner utensils, bent and blackened mugs, plates, and tiles, jewelry too. The latter were not damaged for the most part. All these articles were deposited in a central place where everyone could make a list of what they lost during the raid. I remember one particularly odd case. One lady recognized a valuable platinum ring she had lost in the camp Tantuy on Ambon. The one, who had possession of the ring all this time, didn’t mention its loss, understandably.
The condition in the jungle camp was almost impossible. It had been built to house about 400, but now held about 1,200 to 1,400 women and children. The barracks were built on low moorings. The floors were made of interlaced bamboo. The people were packed in like sardines. There was no room to walk. The worst thing was that there were no latrines. Immediately a large pit was dug, which was covered by a mat of woven bamboo in which holes were made at different intervals. This was supposed to be a public latrine. There was no water in the camp. A short distance from the bamboo bush in which the camp was positioned, rice paddies were located along a small stream. It was forbidden to get any water from the stream because of the possibility of dysentery contamination. No one was allowed to move any further than 1-½ meters from the barracks, and this was the cause of a dramatic event.
On the 3rd of August, while I visited the camp, Jamadji came running in like a madman. He had come from the cassava field, which was close to the camp. I had to make a long detour around the field from the jungle camp to Kampili, if I needed to go there. It was only after the camp years were over, that I understood why Jamadji had made this rule. (Too bad that she didn’t mention his reasoning-TS). Any way, Jamadji had used the shorter road. It seemed that Mrs. Valderpoort and Mrs. Duin, the head of the sewing department, were sitting by the stream to make sure that no one would use it. So she ignored the rule that she was not to go further that the 1 ½ meter from the barracks.
Jamadji raved like a maniac, he screamed that I had to take both women to the command post. He ran ahead of me. I asked the ladies what they discussed while they were at the stream. I did this to find a plausible reason that would justify their presence there. It seemed that they discussed the disappearance of several bales of fabric from the sewing center, which had been thrown in an air raid shelter during the bombing. Then they were hung out to dry and put in storage. This seemed to me to be a legitimate excuse, which Jamadji should accept. When we arrived Jamadji waited with a piece of bamboo in his hands. Both ladies had to stand at attention next to each other. As usual I started to talk to Jamadji to explain to him why the ladies were at the spring. I told him that they were looking for a way to get the lost fabric back. Jamadji seemed to listen and roared something to the two women. I thought that I had won the dispute when Jamdji dismissed Mrs. Duin, but I was wrong. Before I could prevent it he had given Mrs. Valderpoort two hard smacks on her seat. Then he ordered her to stand at attention in front of the post. He would punish her severely because she had set a bad example by ignoring his order to go beyond the perimeter that he had designated.
I still was not overly alarmed, because gaining time before he would execute his punishment was always a good sign. But again, I was wrong. I had to accompany him while he went indoors. From the front room we could see Mrs. Valderpoort standing at attention about 4 meters away. Jamadji wanted to explain to me what he was going to do. Fear gripped my heart. He said that I should not come between him and Mrs. Valderpoort because she had badmouthed me. He would avenge me and would put an end to her bad influence. Bad spirits possessed her and that’s why he felt that he had to kill her. He told me to tell her of his plan. Then he summoned a few coolies to dig a grave for her in the cemetery. I was scared to death because you could never tell with a Japanese person whether they really meant it or whether it was an act. You stood the chance that they would be so wound up that they would carry their threat through. I went outside and told Mrs. Valderpoort what Jamadji had said and also told her that I would do my utmost to prevent this from happening. I returned inside and Jamadji asked me what she had said. I told him that she had not responded. He then told me to get the preacher to have him take her measurements for the coffin, and to hear if she had a last message for her husband and her children.
No matter what I said, Jamadji was determined to execute her. The only thing he promised to make the sentence easier was that he would behead her outside the camp, so that I wouldn’t see it. I don’t remember if there were more people around the command post at that time. I thought that the orderly, Mrs. Voskuil, was nearby. Whenever something unusual happened she would be there. But I saw no one but Jamadji, Mrs. Valderpoort, the preacher, the policeman, and the coolies. The preacher talked to Mrs. Valderpoort and Jamadji sent me outside again. I didn’t know what to do and asked her what the preacher had said. He had asked her if she was ready to die and if she had a message for her relatives. I went back inside and tried to persuade Jamadji that if you put someone to death you deprive that person from becoming a better one. He did not agree. I immediately followed this up by saying that the body would be dead but the soul would return as a good spirit to the place of the misdeed and would try to make everything better again. Jamadji gave me a long and thoughtful look after which he admitted that that was possible. For me there was a small ray of hope. I didn’t say anything and waited. Then Jamadji told me to go outside to ask Mrs. Valderpoort if she had died yet and if her spirit was reborn as a good spirit. I hurried outside and put the Jamadji’s question to Mrs. Valderpoort. She nodded and said that she would not say anything bad anymore. Relieved I went in to tell Jamadji her answer. He gave me a peculiar look and said that he hoped that she meant it, because she would lead a better life. That was the end of this episode, but I have never been so afraid at any other time.
Stolk: To make this event even more complicated I have chosen to include the report of Mrs. Voskuil. The choice is up to you, choose whatever you want to read!
Voskuil: The deep-seated hatred Jamadji had for Valderpoort came to the surface on the 3rd of August. He rode through the jungle camp and came across the border guard where he saw Valderpoort and Duin together. He ran to the office in the camp and told the people there that he wanted to see both of them at his post because they were farther away than 20 meters from the barracks. Since they didn’t come fast enough he had the chain of guards find out where they were. When they finally arrived Joustra was with them. He attacked them verbally like a madman. He told Valderpoort that she always wanted to do things her way and that she sweet talked with an evil heart…he then hit her as hard as he could with his saber on her rear end.
As usual Joustra jumped in the middle and he stopped hitting, but he screamed at her that he would have her shot outside the camp because she had a dirty soul. The soul would remain outside the camp but her body would be buried in the camp. He ordered 4 coolies to dig the grave, and told a native boss to get his car in which Valderpoort would be taken outside the camp.
Joustra told him that it would be a sin to kill somebody, but he answered that his penalty would be to commit suicide. Then Joustra begged him not to leave her with a troubled camp. He would not be swayed and Valderpoort begged him for her life in tears. (??-TS) then he allowed Valderpoort to sit down and Joustra was allowed to spend the last minutes with Valderpoort. In the meantime Jamadji sat in the front hall still and pale.
Valderpoort’s housemate, Gerth, was called and the preacher had to ask for Valderpoort’s last wishes. The native boss returned without the car, fortunately. The commandant then asked Joustra if Valderpoort’s soul had been cleansed. Joustra answered affirmatively, and he told her to tell Valderpoort that she could only say things that were of a positive nature and not talk about anything negatively, which she had done so far. Then he let her go.
In the evening Valderpoort told the Mother Superior that this had been a good experience for her, because a lot went through her mind in those moments.
The grave was dug, but it was for a Christian policeman. In the afternoon Jamadji was very cheerful.
In the morning letters had arrived from Makassar that were passed around
right away. Without being warned, 14 women read that her husbands or father had
died. Smulders, Kooistra, Grebe,
Dirks, Berentsen, Dr. Smits, Rengers, Coenraad, v. d. Velde, van Room,
Gravelotte, van Loon, Nol, and ten Hafe.
Sunday, August 5, 1945. The dysentery patients, who were taken to a native village on the 18th of July, have returned to the cassava field hospital. Today the patients were allowed to have visitors, but they had to stand before the post in a group at 8 AM. They were to leave for the hospital together and march back at 9.30 AM.
This morning Jamadji said that we didn’t have to fear bombing raids anymore, because there would be no more alarms. The letters on the front lawn didn’t need to be whitened and the laundry could hang outside. I cannot describe the relief we all felt.
Seth Paul: August 5, 1945. There was an intermission in the skies until today, when 12 Liberators bombed an area West of here. They must have dropped incendiaries because no explosions were heard, but everything was on fire. Many pamphlets were dropped but none reached this camp.
Valderpoort, August 6. Many carry a bag or similar item packed with the most necessary clothing, jewelry, and papers with them wherever they go. The commandant told several ladies that they didn’t need to do this anymore, because there wouldn’t be any more bombing. He made these remarks here and there in the presence of a few individuals. Officially he didn’t mention anything. Yet many rumors fly around, but nobody knows whence they come. Many believe some of the rumors, which elate them for some time. Everyone hopes for a quick end to this existence. Peace and no more danger. It is almost unbelievable but it has to come in the near future - God willing.
This evening the news reached me suddenly that I have to deliver a speech commemorating the 8th of August. It startled me. What are his plans now? I would love to have stayed in the background.
August 7. Soon Mrs. Joustra came to tell me about the subject of the speech: remembering the dead. A memorial was to be held; prayers for peace, and for renewed hope, to bravely go forward. This will be for my benefit, for he felt that I would be the one who could tell it better than anyone else after all the misery we went through during this war. To be courageous, and work, and trust the future. I need a full day to prepare the speech. Alas, I cannot avoid this task. I shall do my duty and will do it as well as I can for the benefit of all the people. Many feel sorry for me to do this after what happened a few days ago, but I hope that I can carry this out with serenity. The Jap must also know that I came through unharmed, even now. In the jungle camp choirs rehearse for adults and children alike, the Requiem and other songs of peace will be sung on the 8th.
The making of flour, sifting, and baking has started again; the bread is rather tasty. Slowly we are getting back to ‘normal’. No combs are available and we try to use forks, or use 1 comb for tens of heads. This isn’t very hygienic, and head lice are being spread around. It is almost impossible to rid ourselves from this affliction, since we live so close together. We treat the worst cases with kerosene, or sit like monkeys picking lice off each other’s heads. Sometimes we resort to cutting our hair very short. All this makes this place look like a slum like area. In the meantime the cases of dysentery increase daily. The doctor inspects chamber pots from morning till night. Since there is a shortage of pots, we also use pans, plates, and leaves.
About 20 women sew, using the machines that were saved from the fire. In the meantime many machines are being restored and word has it that the sewing machine center will be opened up next week. Many don’t want to participate because they feel that the sewing center and the existence of the pigsties contributed to the annihilation of the camp. We don’t know how this will turn out, but right now Jamadji wants the sewing center to be active, and of course, this is a very good thing.
Also 50 gunnysacks filled with burned rice were delivered. Our meal taste a bit burned, but the rice is still edible. The pastor tried to make combs out of buffalo horn with great success. If there had been more saws and files the boys could have contributed to this effort also. As it stands now, progress is slow.
Voskuil: August 7, 1945. Rumor has it that Tokyo has fallen. On the 5th of August, after the commandant told us that we didn’t have to fear another bombardment, the mood in the camp is more upbeat, even although there was another alarm. 12 Liberators flew over and dropped more bombs; a lot of fires broke out and it is rumored that there were 1,000 deaths in Makassar.
When Joustra asked for 50 women to move to the old camp only 35 came forward. On the 20th of July our flag had been painted on the front lawn, but a short while later the alarm sounded. We waited fearfully for a response from the Allies, but none was forthcoming. And then the rebuilding began, first the bread ovens, then the central kitchen, the latrines…, when all the rubble was removed, burnt iron items were taken away as well as the ashes….when peace returned, only then did the desire to leave the jungle camp increase.
During the first week after the bombing a pall hung over the old camp, the weather and the presence of vultures added to the somber mood. The vultures fed on the hundreds of pig corpses, their intestines extruded at different stages of decomposition. Only 92 hogs survived, some of them were burned over more than half their bodies, but they still tried to eat from their troughs. The vultures flew low over our heads as if they meant for us to be their next meal.
During the evening after the bombardment a truck hauled the carcasses away, the truck returned once more and the boys buried the rest. When people were needed to work in this kind of environment nobody was eager to go. Everybody was afraid to go through a 2nd bombing raid, which indeed happened two days later after the 1st one. But when our plea for recognition was put on the lawn with our flag colors and the words DUTCH WOMEN, no more raids came. Then we were being envied because of the peace and calm we experienced in the old camp. There were also all kinds of opportunities here, every possible household item could be found along the road. If someone needed something, all she had to do was look on the ground and she would find something she could use. Sure it was all black and burned, but there it was, ready to be used.
Once the crew leaders had forgotten to bring notebook paper when they came to their first meeting, not to worry, there was plenty in the ditch by the clinic. Silver spoons and forks, food containers… everything was lying all over the ground. The flammable ribbons that were attached to the incendiary bombs, provided a lot of strapping material, and the metal plates that the ribbons were tied to, were used to bridge the ditches.
Then we, members of the guard and messengers, needed to put out the fires continually. The fires seemed to be out but the wind rekindled them time and again. During the first few days we carried water for hours on time to extinguish the smoldering ruins of, what had been, the central kitchen. Japanese soldiers who wore shoes would throw the water on the embers, but we did everything on bare feet. Those days after the bombing our camp resembled a Japanese garrison more than a women’s camp, but the day after the 2nd bombing, on the 20th of July, they disappeared just as suddenly as they had appeared. Only the commandant lived here, even Daantje and the tailor lived outside the camp.
In the afternoon we heard the sound of airplane engines, were they Americans? Sure enough, the alarm sounded 4 times. We ran to the lawn and there, flying very low, we saw a 4-engine plane. The alarm was not sounded, even although we didn’t detect a red ball on the plane. A while later we saw it turn and disappear. We learned later that the tailor in the cassava field had said that it had indeed been an American, because the Japs don’t have that kind of plane. Besides, the Japs that were walking along the road quickly sought shelter. That reminds us of the time, about 2 weeks ago, when we watched Jap soldiers running across the road, and tearing off branches of shrubs to camouflage themselves. We looked on and wondered if they were being pursued. Nothing followed and the next day we saw the identical scene, but this time they ran in the opposite direction.
During those disastrous days the commandant took exemplary care of the camp. We received all the items from the sewing center that had been made for the Japs, shirts, mosquito netting, then buckets, towels, etc. But now that life has returned to almost normal he wanted to carry out a plan…. Joustra resisted it as long as she could, but once he has an idea in his head, nobody can dissuade him from carrying it out. On the 8th of August a memorial and prayer service were to be held for those that had died so recently. This afternoon he put us to work. Chairs had to be taken to the meadow, also a table, a desk, a sewing machine, and metal structures. Everyone he came upon was required to help. White cloth was sewn together; even the preacher and the pastor helped to sew. The flag was tied to the center of the metal structures, the table was put in front of it and on the table small boxes were placed. The boxes contained an item that had been used by each person that died. In the evening I was sent out to gather these items from the family members. The commandant was very busy and used invectives such as ‘Aksama’, a Japanese curse, or roared for people to use their heads. He kept close watch on us while we worked under the hot sun, literally by the sweat of our brows. He thought that we were too careless with the objects of the dead. He said that they had to be saved for those that were left behind as a memory. A pair of scissors had been chosen for Toos Hoogeveen, but he nixed that and it was replaced by her wedding ring. Wil de Graaf had kept it to give to Toos’s husband after the war.
Wednesday, 8 August, 1945. This morning the ceremony proceeded according to the wishes of the commandant. The families of the deceased were given a chair next to the table where they had placed the boxes. After the speeches by Van Goor, the pastor, Joustra, the preacher, and Valderpoort, they placed flowers on the table. Then Tine Klay and the pastor talked in place of the commandant. He had found it necessary to hold this service because he felt that we were not used to anything like it. He had posed a question and asked if we understood the meaning of the service. But the response was negative. Even when he asked if this ritual certainly would take place during a military service, the answer was still ‘no’. He pressed further by insisting that this observance should make us happy, but he was slightly less than happy when the response was that we were happy when he was happy.
In the evening he had a chat with the pastor and wondered if he should go on with the service. The pastor told him it would be all right to go ahead. Then the commandant told him to explain to the women that he was holding this service because of his sympathy for their losses. Then he gave a dinner party, and one of the surviving pigs, named Jan Klaasen, was butchered for this occasion, after he had taken a trip through the countryside. The pig, that is. The commandant also gave two gunnysacks of sugar to the camp, and we also had a day off. Then he said that he had become a new human being today; he said that the old one had died. He thought that Valderpoort also had become a new person. When the ceremony came to an end, the surviving members took the boxes with them and flowers were put on the graves.
Seth Paul: On the 8th of August, at 8 AM, on the wild grass field between the jungle camp and Kampili, a prayer service was held to commemorate the dead who had lived among us. The ceremony was made symbolic by the presence of five small wooden boxes that contained an item that had belonged to the deceased. Both the Catholic and the Protestant preacher spoke. The choirs of the nuns and Mrs. van der Veen provided choir music. It was very impressive and sad, and at this time I allowed my emotions run free. One is not ashamed to show one’s tears.
The Allies left us in peace, no activity in the air on either side. It came at a good moment, when we had become hardened against the fear of an eventual raid, and you don’t run for cover anymore. I didn’t care…maybe it was just me. Maybe it was because of this prayer service that I wondered: “Why them? When is it going to be the turn of my family, my mother, my sister Paula…and my little sister Mary who won’t remember anything of this war.”
Valderpoort: August 8. Yesterday evening Jamadji wanted to grade our “speeches”. We turned them in and the preacher and the pastor translated them for him. He graded the papers from 20 to 55, my speech earned the latter, 100 was the highest grade. The only thing that I needed to do was shorten the preface and stress the importance to face the future with courage. Each speech was criticized. One had water on the brain, and someone else’s legs were too fat, all in all it was sweet talk. We swallowed the critique, because he feels that he is all knowing. The speakers met early at the house of Joustra, where the men were housed, and there we amended our speeches before the ceremony took place.
The day before, Jamadji had our flag mounted on a white screen on the field where the ceremony was to be held. In front of the screen stood a long table with a higher platform in the center. Everything was covered with white cloth, and the sides of the table were adorned with palm leaves. All chairs were placed in a half circle facing the ‘altar’ and the women were seated according to the barracks’s numbers. To the right the family members and friends of the deceased were seated, and behind them the choir of Mrs. v.d. Veen. To the left were the speakers, the barrack leaders, the elderly, and those who brought the flowers. Behind them were the nun’s and the children choirs. Jamadji saw me talk with Mrs. Mobach and told me where to sit. It was the first time that I saw him since the “incident”; it seemed to bother him more than it did me. Thank God, that I could keep my composure. It seems a special gift I have, and many have admired me because of that. Whenever it is mentioned I say that it is God’s strength in me that they respect. I hope that my words find their way into many hearts to honor Him.
When everyone was seated, 7 friends of the dead came out of the post carrying a small box with them that was wrapped in white cloth. The name of the deceased and the date of death were written on the front of the box. Each box contained an item that had belonged to the departed, mostly a piece of clothing, but Mrs. Hoogeveen’s box contained her wedding ring. When the group approached, the nuns sang the Requiem and the pastor took the boxes one by one and placed them on the elevated part of the table. We read the names: Willy van Sandick, Pop Dahler, Magda Thiessen, Bertha Ploeger, Freddy Paul, these were victims of the bombing raid. Then: Toos Hoogeveen and Nelly Filet, victims of the rabid dogs.
When this was done the pastor turned to the table and said a prayer.
Then Mrs. van Goor said that we were gathered together this morning to remember those who sacrificed their very lives, and that their leaving taught us to conquer the curse of war with love, understanding, and empathy.
Mrs. van Goor announced the different parts of the program. The reverend cited the prayer from Daniel 9, which was followed by psalm 121 and a song by the choir of Mrs. v.d. Veen. Family and friends were invited to put the flowers next to the boxes in the middle of the table. Jamadji himself brought a palm leaf and bowed his head.
Mrs. Joustra brought a spray of flowers which was a gift from the camp, Mrs. Mobach placed a spray for the elderly, two boys represented the children and put down a spray also. Then the pastor closed the ceremony by saying that it had been the wish of Jamadji that this ceremony was held. We were not used seeing Jamadji this way, full of sympathy and empathy for those that had died and us the survivors.
After 10 minutes the 2nd part of the event began. Jamadji had determined how it should take place:
1. Mrs. Joustra remembered the lives and work of the deceased.
2. The Mother Superior discussed our faith in the future, in spite of our worries and suffering we must take heart in the future. Those who live in the realm of the Almighty on this earth shall expect in His shadow.
3. A. Bartstra had to express feelings of love in our hearts. Originally Jamadji had wanted her to describe the pain she felt when she lost her child in Ambon, and now the loss of her foster daughter, Bertha Ploeger. And when everyone had been duly impressed they had to voice their feelings too, and so everybody would speak of courage to each other. Instead Bartstra spoke a few sentences. (He gave her a 25).
4. I had to deliver the history of Kampili from its inception to today.
5. The preacher discussed solidarity. The 8th of August must stay in our memory so that we could look within ourselves to find how much guilt we had to cause the war, and if we indeed deserved peace at this time.
6. Mrs. Klay spoke about the guidance of God in our lives.
7. The children’s choir sang a song of peace.
Mrs. van Goor closed the ceremony by saying: “Few are able to provide comfort to those who need it. But let’s try, whenever and wherever, to understand each other and in so doing relieve our loads. Let’s be thankful for what we have and withstand hopelessness, and let cheerful trust put its mark on this day that the commandant designated to be a free day. The commandant offers a meal for which he donated 2 bales of sugar and a cow. Speaking for all of us we thank him.
Many of us thought that the mention of the sugar and the cow was an ill chosen end for this ceremony, but Jamadji had insisted that it should be mentioned. Some felt that the whole event was heathenish, while others found several positive points, which should be appreciated.
Family members and friends took the boxes, as is customary in Japan with urns.
August 9. More and more sewing machines are brought in and everything points to the fact the hated sewing center will be reestablished.
Since thefts have occurred at night from the containers among the sleeping, a guard has been appointed. On the hour 4 ladies stand guard with lights and armed with sticks, as well against the thieves and the dogs. Everybody has developed a healthy fear against the dogs after all that happened before.
Mrs. Dimonti, who had never really recovered from beriberi she came down with in Ambon, suddenly became very ill. Originally it was thought that she had a light case of dysentery, but her heart was giving out.
There was no alarm today.
August 10. Mrs. Dimonti died last night, she went quietly. This afternoon she was buried in the grave that had been dug for me. That’s why I did not attend the funeral, even although I could have. But I felt that too many would think about me while I would stand by the grave. Mrs. Dimonti had been greatly upset by my experience. She loved me.
The alarm was sounded at 10.30 AM 3 Liberators, but not over our camp. The bombardment was aimed at the airfield behind us and lasted about half an hour.
Voskuil: Friday, August 10, 1945. After the ceremony commemorating the deceased, we hoped to have closed off an evil period of misfortunes. It was not to be. Yesterday evening Mrs. Dimonti died at 10 PM, she was still a young woman of 38. Two days ago she walked from the jungle camp to the dysentery barrack as ordered by Dr. Goedbloed. She suffered from a deficiency disease, beriberi, and dysentery; her heart couldn’t take it. She went into a coma at 3 PM until she died. She was interred in the grave that had been dug to hold Mrs. Valderpoort on that horrendous day. Apparently it was incorrect that a Christian native had been buried there. At the graveside the preacher mentioned that an honest person had gone away. An air raid alarm and a bombardment not far from here interrupted the burial ceremony. An airplane passed overhead several times, but without negative consequences for our camp. Several fires were seen around our camp. Jamadji said that whoever says that they’re not afraid of bombardments is either crazy or a liar.
This morning we had the feeling that we could die within the next few minutes, and each time a lot goes through your mind: partly plans for the future, and the possibility that you’re living your last moments on earth. You only feel free when you give in and with all your heart you think: “Yes, Father!”
Each morning Jap soldiers pass by the camp armed with rifles and spades. What are they building now? We hear explosions all the time, and suddenly we see telephone lines along the road; no one had seen them work on them.
This morning it seemed as if the commandant had a premonition, or did he know something? Before he went to Makassar he told Hermie Nanning twice to be alert.
This morning the restored sewing machines were brought into the sewing center. The machines had been repaired in a native village nearby. The hog farm also had been re-established. If he wants the ladies to work for him again he would have to use a lot of convincing, because the fear to work in the Jap work place is still strong.
Next Monday the sewing center will be officially opened from 7.30 AM to 10.30 AM. We are allowed to walk around in the afternoon, and from now on we will work only for the camp and not for the Japs. This does not jibe with the many trucks that drove onto the campgrounds yesterday; they were loaded down with khaki fabrics.
Yesterday the jungle camp was disinfected, because the dysentery cases were on the increase, 19 new cases a day is not a rare occurrence. All possessions must be laid out in the sun; lye is spread around, and all eating utensils must be boiled in the drums of the pig farm.
Saturday, August 11, 1945. At 5.30 PM the Red Cross car drives into the camp carrying Coumans and Sister Johanna. At first glance Coumans seems to be cheerful, but that impression soon disappears after I talked to her. Her mouth and face pull into a grimace when she said that her condition is terrible having only one leg. The pain is so bad that she can’t sleep at night. I didn’t know quite how to respond but assured her that we had been worried about her during the 2-½ weeks that she was gone. Not a day passed without us mentioning her name. We are so glad that you have returned and not like the others…She sobbed uncontrollably. A while later she was carried to the hospital in the native village by Dr. Goedbloed and Sister Jozef.
Today is the last day of the guard, which was started on the 17th of July. We eat burned rice daily from storage in Makassar.
At 10.30 this morning there was alarm, but the planes were farther away. We can set the clock by the alarm times.
There are a lot of Japs in the camp.
Sunday, August 12, 1945. Order of the commandant: We can only go out at night if we wear long pants, and carry a stick and a lamp.
Yesterday the Japs and the natives had a party outside the barbed wire. The commandant attended with a bottle of sake. At 10 PM the natives went home, they were singing loudly, while we, being close to the barbed wire in the school building, felt very uncomfortable. Then we heard the voice of the commandant next to the fence who asked where they lived. They told him that they lived far away, he then said that they’d better hurry to get home. They quietly went on their way. He definitely had a calming influence on them.
In the meantime Daantje pulled a stunt; he undressed right in front of the ladies who lived at the post, and walked to the bathroom without a stitch on. The women picked up his clothes and put them in the quarters of the commandant. It was a good thing that Daantje finished his bath before the commandant returned, so that he could retrieve his clothes in the commandant’s quarters himself. If Jamadji knew about it Daantje would have gotten another beating and this time we would know that he deserved it.
Tomorrow all services are back to normal. The ladies who had been assigned to guard duty must choose another job. Joustra wants her own office.
The commandant let Joustra know that she is making the same mistakes she made when she first was the leader. She wants to run everything her way, and she and Valderpoort forget that they have to work with the same man. He said that the digging of the grave for Valderpoort was a symbolic gesture that signified that the old Valderpoort was buried, but she hadn’t changed because she asked for permission to be moved back to the old camp, because she was embarrassed. To Jamadji it seemed that she had not changed her ways. That’s what he told Noor. He also mentioned what he thought about the boxed clothing and jewelry of the deceased, and that the bodies and their souls were buried now. We lived in an age of uncertainty and one never knows what might happen to the graves. Many Europeans bury the bodies of their loved ones elsewhere which, in this case, could never come to pass if something should happen to these burial places. At least now, they have the boxes forever. They can think of these as the souls and they can bury them wherever they want to. He felt that it still would be different than just a piece of jewelry or clothing. He regarded van Sandieck the bravest because, even although incendiaries had hit her, she still saved a child. He wrapped her shirt himself and put it in the box.
Jamadji demoted Dr. Marseille to assist the pastor and the preacher. He felt that Dr. Marseille had no influence over the nurses and the patients anymore.
Chabot: 8/13/45. In the meantime I am a patient in the dysentery barrack with 80 others. There were no latrines in the jungle camp; during the first few days ditches were dug right behind our living quarters. We must be hardy souls because the epidemic is not any worse than it is. The adults are pretty sick, but so far only one of us died. That was an exceptional case, a woman who was 39 years old, she also had beriberi and a weak heart.
We are housed in the barrack that was erected in the cassava field last year in December. It is typical that only the most necessary items are here, and nothing else. Only a few have a pillow, others use a back pack made of black sailcloth which was issued right after the fire. There hasn’t been any serum for quite a few years, but castor oil and Epsom salts are available to clean the gastric tract. The first mornings here we find a glass with an Epsom salt solution when we wake up, to swallow 5 or 7 glasses of that solution a day is nothing unusual.
Forty adults share 4 pots, actually one of them is a pan. The nurses run around to clean these utensils, often we have to wait our turn. Our beds are bamboo platforms; those who are very ill have a mattress. Our meals consist of tea and sifted rice porridge; this is the 8th day that I am on this diet. This is awful! Not even a biscuit. Slowly the meals are getting a bit of variety: broth, ground meat, cassava puree, mashed vegetables, toast, and finally rice. If that doesn’t work we’re given some more laxatives. Yet it is fantastic that these two female doctors manage to do so well. I believe that until now there has been only one casualty that succumbed to amebic dysentery, and one to bacillary dysentery. Because there is a shortage of medicine the amebic patients are given iodine enemas but of course, hey really never heal. It is a different story with the POW’s. Last week 120 women received uncensored letters. The last letters had arrived in December last year. Thirteen letters were obituaries; these men died between January and April, probably all of them died of dysentery.
Valderpoort: August 14. A program was started to keep the children busy with schoolwork for several hours a day. This greatly enhanced the peace and quiet of this horrible jungle camp. To keep 800 energetic children occupied within a limited area where every single noise is magnified under the thatched roofs, was an impossible task for the mothers, whose nerves were on edge because they were also busy with their own tasks.
Mrs. van Goor wrote down lessons for the High School students, just to keep their minds working. She also typed part of a book, like a serial, which went around the camp. My days are long and dull because of forced inactivity. I write and read a bit but that doesn’t satisfy me in the long run. Yet I must accept this kind of life for the time being. Maybe it’s good for me. These last six months I have lost a lot of weight and I have my former svelte figure again.
This evening there was supposed to have been a dinner for the ladies of the guard, Jamadji himself would have taken care of it. But it was canceled. He returned from Makassar apparently very much impressed by whatever, he withdrew to his quarters. The gourmet lovers are disappointed while I and many others rejoice. If Jamadji is down we can be happy. It certainly can’t go well for the Japs nowadays; the worse it is for them the better it will be for us.
Stolk: Mrs. Valderpoort wrote about a serial, which Mrs. van Goor took care of. As I told you, she contributed to our small paper. But after the fire I don’t think that there was another paper.
Voskuil: Tuesday, August 14, 1945. Order of the commandant: all incendiary bombs must be brought to the cattle meadow. If anyone holds any of them back they will be severely punished. Incendiaries were put under some furniture as a deterrent for ants. In the central kitchen incendiaries were used to start fires to cook the porridge. No more! Just like the fun some of us had lighting the celluloid box filled with sulfur that was part of the bomb. Noor and her son Eddy were called into the office after they were caught doing just that. The commandant accused them of sending a light signal, but when they turned in the rest of the bomb his anger melted.
Today one of the schoolrooms has been turned in to a temporary post for the commandant. It was odd that the shelter wasn’t hit at all, but the surrounding buildings suffered heavy damage. At the Post all asbestos plates and windows were broken and the outside walls were riddled with holes.
After Jamadji had promised the sewing center that they would only have to work in the mornings from 7.30 to 9.30, because of the possibility of air raid alarms, he still had the women work from 3.30 PM to 4.30 PM.
Yesterday afternoon he announced that the 50 ladies of the guard could eat with him. He said that he would arrange everything himself. That was his plan at 3 PM. But what made his mood turn bad after that? He was reading a paper in front of the Post when we saw him kick off a shoe in anger…Then the truck showed up and Daantje got out carrying an envelope. The commandant got up to meet him and grabbed the envelope from his hand and read the contents, his ugly mood was complete. He told Hermie Nanning that the dinner was off, but whatever was prepared could be taken to the school and divided among the guard ladies… We didn’t mind and ate with gusto, but we did wonder what kind of news he read this day, the 14th of August.
Wednesday, August 15 1945. The commandant drove to Makassar and returned in the afternoon. He is very quiet and preoccupied…. In the evening we heard him carry on a terrible tirade against someone, but we didn’t know whom.
Maurenbrecher - Brain: Harakiri? One day the rumor went around that the “Goat” (nickname for Jamadji-OY) was dressed in white and practiced with his sword on the small trees around the post. Ladies were assigned to several posts from where they could watch him. We were warned to be very quiet, but the day passed without incidents. We could only guess what had happened. We didn’t know how the war was going and we heard only later about the atom bomb….
Valderpoort: August 15. A quiet day, but explosions could be heard far off. We could be thankful that they were in the distance so that nothing bothered us.
All the incendiaries, exploded or not, must be assembled. Many boys were so handy that they managed to take the bombs apart and use the gunpowder, which was contained in celluloid box, as firework. The tar and resin provided a real source of heat when they were lit; 2 bombs were sufficient to start water boiling in a drum. Thousands of bombs could be found in the cassava and banana fields where they practically fell on top of each other. In some places they are no more than 3 feet apart. What did they think of when they dropped them in those fields?
Every afternoon we take a bath in the partially burned down of house no. 6a in the old camp. Four walls and a door are still standing; no roof, but we can take a bath without being bothered. We must get the water from well no. 13, and on the way back to the camp we fill the bucket again to use the water for other things. We wash clothing at the well of barrack no. 1 but, no matter at what time we come, there are always people there, which means that you need to wait a while for your turn at the pump. Since we don’t have a rope to pull up the bucket it’s difficult to get the water.
The presence of rats is getting worse in our house, even although we don’t have any food around. We don’t see them during the day, but at night you can hear them running around on the floor. If you don’t have mosquito netting they walk right over you but, fortunately, I didn’t experience that. Everything that is on the floor is being pushed over, tin cans, plates, etc., and because of all that noise it is impossible to sleep.
Voskuil: Thursday, August 16, 1945. The commandant drives his car in the morning and returns a little before noon on a horse. When he dismounts he calls for Joustra and a policeman leads his horse away. We watch Joustra enter the post and a little while later a beautiful car drives up. About 15 minutes later Joustra walks to the school where we live for the time being. She is holding her old mountain shoes and is wearing brand new black men’s shoes. She has to go to Makassar in a dress, but she doesn’t own one, but Mrs. Prins quickly lends her one. When Joustra appears she gets in the car and drives towards Makassar!
WHAT DOES ALL THIS MEAN?
At 2 PM she returns. The commandant precedes her and bows deeply when Joustra gets out of the car.
THIS IS SOMETHING HE NEVER DID BEFORE!
They enter the post… Later we heard that he asked her to come to his room, opened his windows, stretched out his hand and said that this was the way it was. She left him and returned to the school where she signaled me to come to schoolroom no.1. She wrote down an announcement in the book that had been here since the 14th of August. Curious people asked her if she had a message of peace. She smiled and answered that it was not far off.
I was sent to the jungle camp to announce that the commandant would deliver an important message at 3 PM, and anyone who could, should attend in the meadow. The siesta hour started quietly, but several minutes after the announcement on the blackboard was read pandemonium broke out. The camp became a zoo, such noise!
At 3 PM the meadow was full of people and the commandant arrived dressed in khaki, his hair standing straight up, he apparently didn’t feel like parting his hair. He sat in a chair, which was placed in the middle of the meadow. He signaled that everyone should come closer and called for the preacher and the pastor. For a moment he looked very bashful and whispered something to Joustra who stood next to him. He told her to tell us that the war was over. A shock went through the crowd. The commandant got up and told Joustra to stand on the chair to speak to the assembly. Visibly moved she told the crowd that she had been to Makassar with the commandant and that the military chief of staff, Jozuku, had announced that on the 15th of August an armistice was forged. He didn’t know what to do with us but, until a decision was made, to stay together. It would take a week to vacate the military hospital in Makassar and then the most seriously ill from Kampili, Pare-Pare, and the POW camp would be moved there. Joustra also said that she had asked the Chief of Staff if Jamadji could stay on as our commandant until there would be no need for his presence anymore. An ear splitting roar of approval was heard which moved Jamdji very much.
At last Joustra asked the leaders to assemble at the school and the crowd dispersed. Many showed a great deal of happiness, but an equal number was very quiet and could barely keep from crying. Those were the ones who knew that they would never see a loved one again. (I remember that I walked by myself to an area next to barrack 13 under a large tree. I cried-OY).
The leaders and the men went to the school. When the commandant entered they wanted to bow as usual, but he said that it was not necessary anymore. He took a seat and signaled for everybody to come closer. Joustra called on me to get the flag from the jungle camp. When I returned I folded the flag so that the red, white, and blue would be visible. It was very exciting to see those colors again. I showed the flag to Joustra who asked the commandant what he wanted us to do with it. Should we hoist it on the flagpole? He grunted and Joustra decided that the flag should blow in the wind freely. The commandant looked discouraged, but he suddenly realized the importance of our flag flying high, and he changed his mind. Joustra thought that he probably would have to await orders from Makassar to do so.
It was announced in the evening that the flag could not fly yet because of the unpredictability of the natives, and peace was not definite. Jamadji told Joustra that she was the real commandant now and that he would only stay to be in charge of the native guards.
The first order was that the hospital in Makassar should be readied, then housing for us would be taken care of.
When the meeting broke up the commandant started to leave too. The Mother Superior, who had stayed with a few others, approached him and shook hands with him as did the pastor and the preacher. Jamadji looked embarrassed and a bit forlorn, yet he seemed to gain courage from these gestures of good will.
Later on it was announced that, for our own well being, any contact with the natives would be strictly forbidden. The sick from the former women’s hospital, which had been housed in the native village, were brought to the sewing center, which was made into a temporary hospital. Several were taken to the clinic.
In the evening a thanksgiving service was held in a rice field outside the jungle camp. The reverend spoke first; the crowd felt a profound solemn feeling of gratitude. His eyes shone with sincerity and happiness when he told us not to look back and remember what we lost, but to go on to a new future. He said that he was working to enlarge the sewing center this morning, in the afternoon the armistice was announced, and he added a gleam in his eye that the sewing center was no longer needed. Those who couldn’t see well also lost their glasses, he added mischievously. All in all, his sermon infected everybody with great optimism. Then the choir of Gretchen van Veen sang.
Then it was pastor Beltjen’s turn. He said that a well-known statesman had predicted 3 ½ years ago that we would suffer “blood, sweat, and tears”, and it had come true. The tears came from the mothers and wives who had lost their sons and husbands, and they would form the grains of sand in a New World. Then the nun’s choir sang.
In the evening Noor shook hands with the commandant. He asked her if she was happy. She answered that she was not, there was no flush of victory for anyone. We were of course glad that peace had finally come to the world, and that we didn’t have to fear bombardments and machine gun fire, and that no one would be killed anymore; but this peace didn’t give us the careless feeling that we had always connected it with. On the contrary, we felt fear…
In honor of this day we received 5 bales of sugar and two pigs.
Lindeboom: Then the rumors started; we didn’t understand where they came from because we didn’t have radios, papers were not available, and there was no mail delivery. But it seemed that a horrible bomb had been dropped on a Japanese city and that the war might be over soon. Some women seem to be clairvoyant, and on one peaceful moonlit evening, when we were walking on a small rice field dike, my mother started talking to a part Indonesian lady who said that it would soon be over. Well, about 2 or 3 days later Mrs. Joustra summoned us all together to the meadow because Jamadji had something important to say. He stood on, what I believed to be a small box and started to say something but was overcome by emotion. Mrs. Joustra then asked him if she could tell us, he nodded and she proceeded to tell us that some kind of bomb had been dropped on Japan and because of that the war was suddenly over. I can still see the skinny women and children before me, stunned by hearing this news. Tears ran down the cheeks of some of them, and someone called out that our national anthem should be sung. This was done with hoarse voices. Then there was some weak cheering, some embraced each other, others slapped friends on the shoulders, and in a gesture of futility while grasping the significance of all this, my friend Pim and I grabbed sticks and started beating on a tree.
Seth Paul: Thursday, August 16. This was an exciting day. Mrs. Joustra and Jamadji left the camp. They probably went to Makassar. When they returned we were called together in the meadow because the camp commandant had something to say. However he was overcome by emotion. Then Mrs. Joustra climbed on the unsteady stool. She told us that Japan had capitulated to the Allies on the 15 of August. An armistice was called. It was quiet for a minute…. Then all hell broke loose. Crying, yelling, and laughing. They kissed, embraced, jumped up and down of happiness that could not be suppressed. In contrast the camp commandant was dejected and went home with bowed head.
Van Lochem: One day in August the Japs suddenly became restless. The tailors were reading the papers and seemed to be involved in a serious discussion. They all showed a high degree of excitement. We didn’t know what it was all about, but we could tell that it was important. Until one of the tailors took one of us in confidence and revealed that bombs had been dropped on Japan which leveled a whole city. Several days later the same thing happened to another city. Then the surrender came.
Sorber-Kranendonk: We were all called to a meeting on the lawn in front of the commandant’s house, because an important announcement was to be made by “Spekkie” (‘spek’ means bacon in Dutch, an obvious nickname for Jamadji describing this heavyset man-OY). We were apprehensive because we seldom heard something positive from his mouth. While we were waiting he climbed on a table. But instead of a speech tears rolled down his face; he was totally flustered. Joustra took over and told us that Japan had surrendered and the war was over. Everybody was quiet and then the national anthem was sung. It seemed to come from the past. Most of us were elated and longed to see our husbands and fathers. But the widows were confronted with facing an empty future.
Dijkstra-Advokaat: August 16, 1945. At daybreak the camp begins to stir. Mugs clank together and the bamboo floor, which serves as our bed, begins to move when, one by one, people get up from their mats to exit through a narrow door; glad to leave the place where we sleep like sardines in a can.
We wash our faces and hands, because there is not enough to take a bath. Pretty soon the large cans with hot tea arrive and each of us gets some of it, followed by a plate of rice porridge boiled in water.
Our Bellemee walks around the camp with her bell to alert us that it is time to go to work. Our work schedule was interrupted after the bombing raids destroyed our old camp. What little we had was wiped out then. It was my task to sweep the floor of the camp, which was always covered with large leaves. Others would take away the leaves. A largely senseless job.
This morning I had some time to go to a wonderfully quiet spot in the woods where I could mull over the future when we would be free again. No airplanes came over, no alarm, it stayed pleasantly quiet.
The bell announced lunchtime, I had a plate of dry rice with a bit of green and a few pieces of meat which were boiled in water. Then everyone could rest a while. My camp friend and her 5-year-old son and I would go deep into the bush. It was always quiet there and just this day we remarked on how no planes had come over yet. We didn’t know anything about the war; we had been isolated for 3 ½ years; 1,600 women and children guarded by one Jap, the camp commandant.
An increasing volume of voices in the camp caught our attention. We thought that it might mean that a rabid dog was in the neighborhood and kept the little boy anxiously by our sides, but he wanted to see what all the commotion was about. During the past year a few had fallen victim to the bites of rabid dogs. The volume of voices was consistent and we finally decided to see what was going on. How odd, the women stood in small groups talking excitedly to each other. We heard that the commandant had summoned our camp leader, Mrs. Joustra, both of them drove off, probably to Makassar. He had left a message that we were to assemble on the field in the old camp where he would tell us something of great importance. We could hardly wait!
I was there at 4; my friend couldn’t walk that distance anymore. We all stood around the field when the commandant climbed on a chair that was placed in the middle of the meadow; he told us that the war was over. Then he said that the Japanese would guard us for the time being, for our own safety.
I had heard enough and hurried back to the camp where a most unusual scene awaited me. We embraced and kissed each other, disagreements were forgotten. We were relieved of a tremendous burden, elated with the present and not thinking about what the future might hold; at least for now. We couldn’t organize a party to celebrate, because we lacked supplies. I don’t remember if we had tea with our evening meal. We would all meet in the old camp where the two religious leaders would hold a sermon. That was the best part of the day. Our minister, who had performed like a carpenter all these years, was the first one to speak. Our untrained numbed brains tried to retain what he said. We experienced the same sensation when the pastor rendered a fiery speech. During our camp time he had busied himself repairing pots, pans, and buckets. We were almost too much overcome by emotions to sing our national anthem, and when dusk settled we ambled back to our camp in silence. That night we went to bed later than usual, did I mention bed? But first we washed our feet because we walked on bare feet. While I sat on the steps leading up to the barrack I rinsed my feet and let them dry. Then I stood on one of the large leaves, which had been put down, and that way I could reach my sleeping place with relatively clean feet.
Immediately questions about the future were forced to the foreground. Were our husbands still alive? Where were they? My husband had been a POW in Makassar and we had heard rumors that they were taken away. If he was alive where would he be? I received his last note of 25 words months ago and it was not dated. His telegram came several days later, but it would be four months before I saw him again in Makassar after not having seen him for four years. That night I was still ignorant about that. I was happy and at peace because the war was over, even although we still were not really free.
Chabot: Peace! Or at least there was an armistice, but we called it peace. Although it happened on the 15th of August, we didn’t hear about it until the 16th in the afternoon. First we heard that Mrs. Joustra, neatly dressed had gone to Makassar and we were to assemble on the grass field in the old camp at 3 PM. The commandant started to say a few words, but then Joustra took over, because he was so overcome by emotions and very much dejected. Because of our request the commandant would stay on for the time being, and we could carry on like we did before.
It would take a week before the military hospital in Makassar would be ready to take on the most seriously ill from our camp, Pare-Pare, and the POW camp in Makassar. It was difficult to realize right away that we were free, but at least we didn’t have to fear airplanes anymore, or dread the approach of a full moon.
Valderpoort: August 16. The day started out quiet and unusual. I repaired some underwear and nothing indicated in the morning what happiness awaited us that day.
For several days we heard that Nagasaki had fallen, and people talked at length about the withdrawal of Jamadji last night. Then some talk that had come from the hospital that a native had approached a Japanese tailor and rudely told him that Japan was conquered and the Japanese could not tell them what to do anymore. The Jap didn’t respond and the native didn’t get beaten up. Because of these rumors we felt that there was something in the wind but we didn’t know what. It was also oddly quiet in the skies and that put some ideas in your head.
Suddenly Jamadji summoned Joustra; she had to accompany him to Makassar. She didn’t own a nice dress and had to borrow one, her soldier’s boots were not nice enough and Jamadji lent her a pair of his shoes. When she returned everyone had to come to the meadow to hear an important message at 3 PM. We all wondered what this would be all about. Finally Jamadji showed up followed by Joustra. He climbed on a chair, looked into a notebook, mumbled something, but we couldn’t understand him. He appeared very much dejected and timid. When we called out that we couldn’t understand him he first called on the pastor, but eventually had Mrs. Joustra tell the news. She told us that she had been in Makassar and had been in a meeting with a high ranking Japanese officer and interpreters speaking the English and Malay language. She then learned that the hostilities were halted. An armistice was under way, and the request was made that we stay put for the time being, and that the Japanese forces would see to it that we would get continued support to see to our safety. The hospital in Makassar would be cleared out and the most seriously ill from our camp, Pare-Pare, and Makassar would be taken there. Mrs. Joustra then asked if we’d agree to let Jamadji stay on as our commandant until his services were no longer needed; this met with our approval.
As soon as we heard that the hostilities were halted the emotional outbursts and shows of joy were indescribable. For a moment everyone was stunned. The emotions of the adults would have lasted longer if it hadn’t been for the elation of the younger generation. They suddenly broke out in a tumultuous cheering and jumped for joy. Immediately, while standing in the crowd, I started to sing our national anthem which was picked up by everyone, this was followed by a psalm thanking the Lord. Just when we had started singing our anthem Mrs. Joustra signaled for us to stop because she had more to say, but this was totally ignored. We had to finish singing and then we were ready to hear the rest of the announcements. When she said that Jamadji would stay on, a murmur went up from the crowd, which could not be misinterpreted. During all the cheers Jamadji had left silently, the big man had become a little man again.
During a meeting with the barrack leaders later on, he thanked them for their cooperation; he had often been at fault, but he hoped that it would be forgiven. Many hoped that he would ask for my forgiveness as well, but he didn’t do that. I really didn’t care. Many cannot do penitence, and for a Jap to do so where a Dutch person is concerned must be difficult. It was amazing how many had come to thank me and embrace me in their joy. Well, I too was happy that I could experience all this, but I told them that all my work was a mission from God and that we lived by the mercy of God.
In the evening a service was held by the ministers. The Catholic father used angel’s songs as his subject while the choir of Mrs. van Veen and the nun’s choir sang psalms to end the service. There was an inner rejoicing and sincere happiness that an end had come to the possibility of becoming a victim of bullets, swords, or bombs. It gave us great peace of mind that we did not have to worry about alarms anymore.
We almost couldn’t go to sleep thinking about building castles in the air for the future. The fact that we didn’t have to turn off the lights after 8 PM was also a happy occasion.
August 17. Today the elderly and the sick, that had been housed on the other side of the canal in a native village, were brought back to the camp and put in the damaged sewing center and the clinic. The dysentery patients stayed in their separate quarters in the cassava field. Unfortunately that disease is still rampant in the camp. Sometimes there were days that 21 would be admitted, while the usual admittance rate was 8 per day, and that was still too many. It was too bad that Mrs. Kieft died this afternoon; she had dysentery but also suffered from a lack of vitamins which rendered her limbs in a weakened state, and her heart couldn’t take it anymore. In spite of her illness she worked very hard for the camp doing a lot of sewing. She had lost her husband on the 8th of March, a victim of a bombing raid and she didn’t have any children. She went peacefully.
This morning we could bathe in the old camp, pure luxury that we could do this in the middle of the day, without the fear of a possible bombing raid. We enjoyed the sunshine which was absent in this chilly jungle camp, causing most of us to look pale, in contrast to those who lived in the old camp who looked tanned. Then there are those who look scrawny because of lack of food, while those who have been eating at the commandant’s table look well nourished because they never knew what hunger was. Yet, we should not complain now that peace has come. Our portions are sufficient, and Mrs. Den Hond is still taking care of the central kitchen the way she did during those difficult days that we barely survived. Also, some inferior tennis shoes arrived for the elderly and those with sore feet and swollen stomachs. Cotton fabrics arrived also, enough for each person to get a new dress, and for the young ones a piece of clothing like the ones they lost during the fire. Milk was available, something we haven’t had, unless you were fortunate enough to be in the hospital and could get a sip of 1 or 1 ½ liter of milk that the cows provided.
A child heard about milk for the first time and asked his mother if you could wear it. If milk were truly available now it would be a sad commentary to realize that several children and adults lost their lives when it was not an option as part of their treatment.
Yet, the shortages were even worse in the POW camp in Makassar. Just now Mrs. Gravelotte received news that her husband had succumbed to pellagra. Thank God, that this worst form of beriberi did not occur here. This was probably due to the enormous cassava garden and the fields that produced a plethora of vegetables, even although the work to keep these gardens going was hard. We can thank Mrs. van Diejen, who headed the garden crew, for all her energy to keep us going.
This afternoon Mrs. Kieft was interred. Her grave was dug on the other side of the road next to the cemetery, which had become too small and needed to be enlarged.
This afternoon, at another meeting, it was announced that Jamadji still would exercise his right to issue orders and we all had to obey them. It could also take 2 months, maybe two years, before we could leave this place. This was enough to put a damper on some of us and many approached me to talk about it. I had quite a time trying to cheer them up.
All day long we heard explosions around the camp. We now realize how close to danger we have been all this time, and we thank God that there is no more war.
This morning I visited several patients, among them Mrs. Westein and Miss Coumans.
Voskuil: Friday, August 17, 1945. The commandant’s appearance now is pathetic. He went to Makassar.
Mrs. Joustra now gives her account of her visit to Makassar.
She was seated between the commandant and a Jap lieutenant; they drove along the familiar road. She noticed that all yards had an air shelter like the one the commandant had, but with a much cruder outer finish. We used to call them ‘puddings’. All the gardens were unkempt, probably for camouflage reasons. But people lived in the houses. Radio towers were covered with palm leaves. The water tower was still standing; Chinese shops looked as they had been closed for a long time. In front of the high school were 2 ‘puddings’, the school seemed to be undamaged. But after passing the Schijfberg road, where people seemed to live, the General van Daalen road had many empty pockets. After passing the clock they entered the yard of the commissioner’s residence. The Japanese military staff now occupied it. In the front gallery people were typing or reading in an orderly fashion. An officer descended the stairs to get them. The lieutenant went first, then Jamadji, followed by Joustra. They were taken to a room full of Japanese officers. The first one who stepped forward was the high official who visited the camp after the bombardment and who brought chocolates for ill children. Next to him were more officers, one of them wore many gold braids, and behind them there were more officers. Then the chief of staff approached them politely; he shook hands and proceeded to read something in Japanese, while they were still standing. An officer translated the text in Malay, but since Joustra didn’t know Malay that well, she wondered if she understood him correctly. But she thought that she could ask Jamadji about it later, since he had first heard it in Japanese. A short time later he translated the text in English, but since it was accented strongly by the Japanese language, Joustra didn’t realize right away that he was speaking English. It soon became clear to her that an armistice was formed and she quickly expressed her joy while the chief of staff listened to her in amazement. Then they shook hands again and they were allowed to leave. Jamadji and Joustra heard the news at the same time.
The officer with the gold braids followed them out and had a long chat with Jamadji. Joustra thought that he must be the friend that Jamadji had several times spoken of proudly. One evening they had gone to a restaurant and Jamadji had shown her the bill. It was clear that the two were true friends and Jamadji received a firm handshake when they left, while the officer nodded to Joustra. Then they got in the car and drove back to Kampili. This time without the lieutenant. Joustra tried to start a conversation but Jamadji curtly told her not to talk yet.
When they got out of the car Jamadji opened the door for her while bowing to her. They entered the post, he opened the windows wide, shook her hand and said: ”This is the way it is!”
Saturday, August 18 1945. For the last few days we heard the Japs greet the sun noisily behind the camp. Yesterday there was a deadly calm, but today we heard continuous fire, sometimes very loud and close to our camp. They seem to amuse themselves by using up their ammunition.
The coolies are in overdrive to finish our new barracks. This morning all kinds of material arrived, white and colored fabrics, flannel, khaki, and even 4 crates with wine, vermouth. Jamadji said that it was to be consumed when the men came.
Then 150 pairs of tennis shoes arrived for the elderly who walk with difficulty. The doctor had to decide who would receive them. Also, it seemed that tooth paste, perfumed soap, cookies, and cans of milk had come in.
Yesterday Mrs. Kieft died, she was glad to go. Her husband had been killed during the bombardment in Ambon; she was childless and only 45 years old. She had lost her will to live. Yesterday the commandant had said that he would take care of her funeral, but today it seemed that no arrangements had been made. Joustra reminded him and he immediately lost his temper. The coolies didn’t start to dig the grave until 11 AM, and since the commandant didn’t come to look at it, things didn’t go very fast. At 1 PM the commandant came by with several other Japs, and as soon as he was out of sight the coolies stopped working. I asked the overseer why they had stopped digging since the grave was not deep enough. He then aped the commandant and said that it was indeed deep enough. There we were, with a shallow grave. I went to see the reverend and he and a few boys quickly lengthened and deepened the grave. The pallbearers had already left to pick up the coffin.
I went to the school, for the first time I felt that Jamadji had gone too far. If he had wanted to arrange everything he should not have left others with the mess. Yesterday’s attitude was gone and replaced with his usual arrogance. He had approached Joustra angrily asking her why the three men hadn’t asked for work, maybe they thought that they could handle everything themselves or maybe they had come to Joustra? He wanted to be the boss. But when Joustra warned the reverend, when he came to ask for work, Jamadji told him to ask Joustra. Unpredictable, we would be well advised to watch out for his mood swings.
Joustra held three meetings, one with the doctors, the second with the barrack leaders, and the last one with the crew leaders and the three men. She told them that it could possibly take 2 months before we could leave the camp. Those who already knew where they would go would go first. After all, this was only an armistice and the chance existed that war could resume. However, the chance of this happening was practically zero since Japan had surrendered unconditionally.
If we wanted to stay on good terms with Jamadji a lot would depend on the attitude of the natives towards him. Would they be friendly or hostile? Exchange of letters with family members shall be taken care of as soon as possible.
The barracks should be ready for occupation three weeks from now. To speed up matters, Japanese soldiers have been pressed into service to help the coolies build the bamboo structures.
Everyone gets a khaki shirtdress with a button closing in front. When it was mentioned to the commandant that we didn’t have buttons, he answered that when he said that we would get have buttons we would get them.
According to the commandant the news of the armistice was made known in every camp at the same time. Each camp would make a list of those that had died during the occupation. All the sick, except for the dysentery patients, would be taken to the hospital in Makassar with a nursing staff plus a doctor and a cook. Goedbloed and Feenstra both want to go and will draw for the privilege.
The sewing center will take care of the dresses for us, and blouses and skirts for the country girls. Vonk who, in turn will be aided by Lucas has replaced Duin. A 24-hour watch must be placed in the sewing center, because one night all the sewing machine needles were removed.
This evening we heard Jamadji rant and rave, just like in the old days. We had heard Japanese soldiers in the distance, and what had happened? A drunk soldier had seen a light in the distance, the light of the dysentery barrack. He found an open gate and entered. He approached Mrs. Egberts who screamed and Dr. Feenstra came running. The Jap ran off, but Feenstra and Voormolen were afraid of a repeat performance and reported the incident to the commandant. He became furious with the soldier and Dr. Feenstra. He held her responsible for not having closed the gate and showing a light. He summoned Joustra and told her that he would show her how the Japanese handle an incident such as this one. She thought that he meant to punish Feenstra and begged for forgiveness. But Feenstra and Voormolen were dismissed to return to the hospital and Joustra stayed. He took the car and returned about 10 minutes later with two soldiers. One of them took a seat in the front room with the commandant and Joustra. One Jap remained standing and Joustra thought that he must have been the culprit. It made her feel very uneasy. The officer began to speak in Japanese; the one who stood was a NCO and a translator. The officer offered his apologies and said that he was shamed by the actions of the soldier under his command. He was at fault and he should have watched the soldiers better so that this could not have happened. He was terribly sorry but the guilty party would be severely punished. Joustra said that as far as she was concerned the incident was forgiven, and the man didn’t need to be punished. But this was not the case. Bowing respectfully the two disappeared accompanied by Jamadji. Joustra returned to the school building where she heard 7 shots.
Valderpoort: August 19. This morning I put a list together of those 46 who had died in Ambon. All camps will receive a list of those that died and a list of the survivors. This will be the first contact. Then Jamadji asked for reports about finances, the medical service, house-keeping matters in the camp, the storage place, the school, religious services, and an account of all the years that he had taken care of the camp. Of course the reports will be written in such a way that they would reflect favorably on him. No report should be made about his physical and mental abuses.
Yesterday evening a Jap soldier under the influence had entered the dysentery area and wanted to enter the barrack. Fearing that he would succeed Mrs. Egberts started to scream. Dr. Feenstra and her friend, who both lived there, immediately warned Mrs. Joustra, who in turn warned Jamadji. He became furious accusing them of not having turned off the lights that had attracted the soldier in the first place. They denied that the lights were on but he didn’t believe them. Roaring with anger he threatened to find the perpetrator and he would execute him in the presence of those who had not followed his directives. The ladies were crying; they were entirely innocent, but this sadist had found another reason to harass some of us. In the meantime I heard that the lights had been extinguished and the gate shut, but the soldier had kicked it open. No mistakes had been made on their part. Yet Mrs. Joustra didn’t support the ladies when he insisted that mistakes were made that led to this incident. Dr. Feenstra was furious and thought it unworthy of Mrs. Joustra to admit failure on the doctor’s part. Mrs. Joustra claimed that if she had spoken up for the doctor that he would have become even angrier. Unbelievable!
Dr. Goedbloed was also incensed about the insolent attitude of Jamadji towards her when she needed to report the conditions of the sick. He didn’t return her greeting and would snap at her repeatedly while she delivered her report. It is despicable the way he treated a cultivated hard working woman, while he asked Mrs. Tripp for forgiveness for beating her up and, being flattered, she promptly decorated his house with flowers.
In the evening a list arrived of the POW’s in Makassar which showed that a large part of their camp had been transferred to Java at the beginning of August. Many women were disappointed since they believed that their husbands were still in Makassar. Yet, because of the fact that peace was here, they quickly reconciled with the idea that their husbands were not as close by as they thought.
In the afternoon 3 Allied planes appeared high up in the sky. Several of us, especially children, started to look for shelter. Adults and I came out of the jungle camp to see if they would drop pamphlets. We sincerely hoped that they would. Alas, they stayed at their altitude and no papers fell. Some imagined that they had seen pamphlets drop at a great distance. The odd thing was that ‘Daantje’ rang the alarm in the old camp and everyone there had to enter shelters.
Voskuil: Sunday, August 19, 1945. Again, constant sounds of explosions and burning took place in the vicinity of the camp. This is a strange way for the Japs to amuse themselves, it would be better if they could spend their energy by helping to erect the barracks.
Announcement: those who have family members in Makassar that are not interned can report it.
At 1 PM an American in the air, a moment of joy, and then the alarm and we have to go into the shelters. Even after the plane had disappeared we had to stay put until the all clear was given. We were surprised that this took place during peacetime. We were thankful that the Japs behind us didn’t start shooting. Oh well, the Liberator is gone and we had our first peacetime alarm.
We didn’t know where the peace talks were being held, but we knew that the Allies had not landed here, therefore the decision must be made in Japan. According to the pamphlets the Allies landed on Tarakan only on the 17th of August. It is rumored that the women had petitioned the Mikado.
The commandant came home and promptly beat up on Daantje because he had rung the alarm bell. During the fly-over the tailor had commented that it wasn’t proper. It is rumored that pamphlets had been dropped somewhere.
In the evening a list arrived of the POW’s in Makassar, 80 in all. Fourteen days ago 80 of them were taken to Java.
On Friday the 17th Jamadji was dressed in civvies and seemed to be disorganized and depressed; on Saturday the 18th he was his usual self: dressed in khaki and dictatorial.
The elderly were given white fabric sheets and pillowcases. The condition of the sick had to be typed up this morning, and the commandant took the report to Makassar.
Joustra had a big tiff with To who told Joustra to type the report herself, when Joustra told her to do it. Joustra then said that she would not have her do anything any more but would let me handle urgent matters.
Chabot: Our fears were well founded when, two days after the armistice was announced, the Japs began destroying munitions. Explosions could be heard all around the camp and sometimes we could hear the sounds of ricocheting bullets. If an Allied landing had taken place on this island not many of us would have survived. More and more I am convinced that this must have been the reason for the 4,000 incendiary bomb attack. The Allies had wanted us to leave and Nippon could have obliged them if they had really wanted to. In the meantime one third of the POW’s in Makassar had been taken to Java between the 1st and the 15th of August. Henk was one of them. They had heard that we had a fire and wanted to help us during this difficult time.
It is possible that this was carried out in view of a possible landing of the Allies on this island, and that the other two third would have followed if there had not been an armistice.
I long for some news from Henk. The first few days after the peace treaty the commandant remained quietly in his quarters, which made us think that it was sad to see someone who had lost the war. But this was only temporary; he even hit several people and is very touchy. He felt that we are now less respectful towards him than before the peace pact.
The old camp is being rebuilt with the help of Japanese coolies, so that we can move back as quickly as possible. The daily grind of hauling food and water back and forth has become nigh impossible. Health conditions are deteriorating. Children don’t get enough sunlight under these trees. There are a hundred dysentery patients, some of them are seriously ill, and there are even several cases of typhoid fever.
Otherwise we live for the future. What kind of agreement will there be between the Netherlands and America? What part will America take in the rebuilding of this country?
Voskuil: Monday, August 20, 1945. This afternoon six Japs passed the coolies that were working on rebuilding the barracks when a loud jeer was heard from the workers. There was no doubt that the taunt was meant for the Japs. More than ever it is clear that the roles are reversed.
In the late afternoon we watched the commandant remove several tree branches with one chop of his saber. The branches were carried out of the camp on a cart. The way he did this left a warning: be very careful! Whoever passed gave him a quick look and kept going. The fact that he was in a bad mood was confirmed when he was heard to roar in the middle of the night: “What’s going on?” The school guard answered that they were just checking around. He promptly called on Joustra who was chewed out about the school guard and the sewing center. He had made it clear that the guard and the sewing center were not necessary anymore and therefore they should be stopped immediately. He then voiced his displeasure about the red, white, and blue flags bordered by orange. Joustra had to pay attention to those matters; she failed to do so. Then he said that de Jongh should have reported the typhoid case much earlier so that he could have ordered fruit and other things to benefit the sick. Sister de Jongh was cuffed around the ears and he swore at Joustra.
Valderpoort: August 20th. The doctors have to submit a report to Jamadji starting from the 14th of May to the 16th of August 1945 as soon as possible. Then they asked me to translate it into Malay. I felt that it was strange that I was involved in these matters again. While I was doing it I received another request to deliver a translated report about the present condition of the hospital; Jamadji had to take it to Makassar right away. I continued to take my time, while Mrs. Voskuil was chomping at the bit. The rest of the day I spent translating another document which I finished in the evening, thank goodness. In the meantime I worked on a small monthly report at the request of Jamadji. It is convenient for him now that I still am in the land of the living.
August 21. This morning I was suddenly summoned by Jamadji. While it startled me to begin with I immediately felt that no harm would come to me if it was God’s will, and I calmly descended to the post. I met Mrs. Joustra who knew nothing about it, so she could not tell me why I was called in. She suspected that it might be because Jamadji had asked her if she had thanked the high ranking Japanese officer when she was in Makassar, She told him that it had slipped her mind and that Jamadji might have chosen me for that small task because I could speak Malay. I told her that I was glad that I could prepare a refusal because I felt that there was nothing I was grateful about. She gave me a puzzled look, but we could not continue our conversation because I was advised that Jamadji had arrived in his office. This was the first time he would speak to me since the 3rd of August. He greeted me politely and asked me to take a seat. While looking down all the time he asked me to put a report together about the life and experiences in the Ambon camp. I told him that it would have to be a sad report because we experienced nothing but distress, hunger, suffering, and death. He said that he knew about that but he wanted me to write about it anyway. When I left he thanked me for going through the trouble.
It was touching to find so many who approached me with a sense of relief when I started on my way back to the jungle camp. They had feared for my well being.
We are suddenly overwhelmed with gifts. A long time ago we put in a request for washing bowls, and now they arrive by the hundreds. We have also received cotton fabrics for sheeting and pillow cases for the hospital. Jamadji delivered them in the morning, but he was dismayed when he saw later that day that they had not been put on the beds yet. After all, the fabric needed to be cut and sewn into bedding material. Dr. Goedbloed and sister Marcaria were summoned and he honed his sword in front of them to intimidate them. Mother Superior was called in also and she was admonished because he felt that one of the nuns didn’t seem to know what obedience was. The doctor and the sister became increasingly nervous which made him laugh sadistically. In the end he used the sword to slice off tree branches.
The night before Sister de Jongh had reported to him that she needed a special diet for Mrs. Erkelens, a typhoid patient. He was gone to Makassar. She returned 3 times, only to be summoned around midnight by a drunken Jamadji. She was chewed out something awful and was accused of not having any interest or love for the sick. He threatened to hit her and she finally had to stand in front of the post until 1.30 AM in front of his quarters.
What makes this even worse is that she had asked the women who stayed there to warn her the minute he would return and to tell him that she had been there 3 times to talk to him. However, they didn’t relay her message.
Voskuil: Tuesday, August 21, 1945. The commandant requested that several ladies give him reports about their experiences during the Japanese occupation on Endeh, Flores, Timor, Sumba, Hollandia, Rante Pao, etc.
Bellemee could sit by the bell again; it made her very happy. For a while she was in charge of bathroom duty and after that she was a coffee grinder.
Japanese coolies are working on the barracks; they’re progressing nicely. Late afternoon 60 mattresses were brought in for the hospital, and Mesdames van Lochem, Nanning, and ten Boom who, with their children, will move to barrack no. 16, which is not quite finished. The superstitious belief that children bring luck is not taken for granted by the commandant anymore.
Wednesday, August 22, 1945. At 8 AM Mrs. Joustra, Deibler, and Mobach nicely dressed and under strict orders to wear shoes, stepped into a car headed for Makassar. Jamadji sits next to the driver in the front seat, a briefcase under his arm. When they approach the fence the car stopped; Deibler was put in the front seat and Jamadji sat in between Joustra and Mobach…
While they were gone toilet soap was passed out among us. It was true that the quality didn’t differ from the ordinary soap, but the gesture was appreciated.
The four returned at noon. Noor had talked briefly with Joustra, and when she returned beaming to schoolroom 7 where we stayed, she told us that the news was very good. When I pressed her to be more specific she answered that I had to think about what Eddie had said this morning, and that Joustra would issue a communiqué later that day. We cheered because Eddie had told us that the commandant had told him that the peace agreement had been signed. We awaited Joustra’s announcement anxiously only to be disappointed when nothing was mentioned about peace. What did become clear was that, according to our request, the ladies had gone to Makassar to thank the chief of staff for their generous treatment of us while we were in captivity. This was translated in Malay, English, and Dutch. This evoked a storm of protest in the jungle camp. Why was something that was supposed to be our request held secret until after it was all over and done with? We didn’t feel that we needed a leadership like this in peacetime. From now on everything had to be cleared with us first. They also felt uneasy about the fact that nothing was mentioned about the peace treaty, maybe Joustra kept that a secret too. When I asked Joustra about it she denied it, saying that such things are not to be kept secret. But there is a growing distrust against her in the jungle camp.
Valderpoort: August 22. This morning I started to write the report about our distress and suffering. Just remembering all the facts made me downhearted. I worked all day and finally finished up in the evening.
In the meantime the ladies Joustra, Deibler, and Mobach had left for Makassar. Nobody knew the purpose of this trip, everything was kept secret. I suspected the truth since I had overheard a few things when Jamadji and Joustra talked together. However, I didn’t say anything since I didn’t want to sow any seeds of distrust. I was certain that doubt about the present leadership would come about once the truth was known, and I was right. A wave of indignation went through the camp when the following was written on the blackboard: “According to our wishes we were able to express our feelings of gratitude to the Japanese authorities on Celebes for all that they have done for us. Mrs. Joustra delivered our message in the presence of Mesdames Deibler and Mobach.
“During our internment in the camp Kampili we thank you sincerely for the proper and laudable treatment we have enjoyed. Mr. Jamadji executed his duties admirably and protected us from molestation and deficiencies. We enjoyed a safe haven, plenty of food and clothing and, above all, plenty of work and the necessary diversions, which added to our physical and mental well being.
Again we express our heartfelt thanks and hope that you will transfer our message to your government.
This message was delivered in English and Malay and the Lt. General Osugi then held a friendly conversation with us in which he confided to us that his first concern was to keep peace and order during the transition to prevent looting and rioting. In return we promised him that we would cooperate and that we would urge everyone to behave in a manner that would not discredit us in any way.
Finally the supreme commander wished us a joyous and happy reunion with our loved ones when the time would come”.
Signed by A.H. Joustra.
This awful message was deeply resented by those who still think honorably and just, and who knew nothing about the plan to take this message to Makassar. A. Bartstra also knew nothing about it and she told Joustra in the evening that she had been totally wrong to assume that we would go along with their plan.
The jungle camp was rightfully indignant and in small groups they voiced their displeasure. I myself withdrew because I didn’t want to show my anger in public, which would not be very wise at this point. I only expressed my feelings to those who asked me. I said that this gesture was greatly offensive and scandalous for the Dutch women.
When A. Bartstra went to the old camp the commandant asked her why we were so angry. Apparently someone had briefed him already. Annie told him that we were mad because Joustra had taken this on herself to represent us, while we knew nothing about it. He then said that we should not assume that it was he who had ordered it done. This weighs even more against Joustra. We now live under the dictatorial regime of this woman, it defies a description. She would jump through hoops to stay in favor with Jamadji. I detest such fawning, I can hardly eat and it won’t let me go. Does this mean “to be true to one’s country until death?” Thank God that many feel like I do and that we have a proper perspective of the situation, fortunately.
Voskuil: Thursday, August 23, 1945. Very agitated women are planning a meeting for the leaders.
Joustra will feel the heat, literally and figuratively; she must apply a more democratic leadership in the future before she will be unseated. It is lucky for her that no one is better suited for the job.
Yesterday we received more mattresses, and Japanese medicines for broken and bruised body parts. We burst out laughing when we saw this and thought about getting a beating from the commandant.
Coffee was delivered; this time it was roasted and ground. Usually we had to do this ourselves.
Darleen Deibler told us how the trip to Makassar went. They left here at 8.15 AM and arrived at 8.45 AM in front of the commissioner’s house. They were admitted to the office of the military chief of staff after fifteen minutes. They waited from 9 AM to 11 AM until his duties allowed him to hear what the women had to say.
When he finally entered the room he greeted them in a friendly fashion and offered them tea with sugar after which he listened to their message, which was delivered in 3 languages. After some time they needed to relieve themselves, but felt that this man was not exactly the one to voice their needs to, no matter how friendly this Lt. General Jozuku was. They confided their needs to Jamadji who seemed to be a trusted family member in this strange environment. They were shown the lavatory and washed their hands for the first time since long ago under running water.
Before they headed back Joustra asked Jamadji if they could see the sea. He didn’t respond but when we came to the commissioner’s house he told the driver to go right. We drove to Dr. Smit’s home and saw the sea. There was a wall and we continued by the Ravelijns Road and the General van Daalen Road back to the camp.
At the meeting between Joustra and the leaders, An Bartstra read the opposition’s opinion about the way Joustra assumed that she could speak for everyone without them knowing about it. Particularly mentioned were the secrecy that shrouded the 3-women trip to Makassar and the words ‘gratitude’ and ‘laudable’. Joustra admitted to all this but she had her reasons: first, there hadn’t been time to announce all this, and secondly, if she had mentioned it beforehand, it would have created just as much misunderstanding as if she had not mentioned it at all. Her explanations were not accepted, but when she also told the leaders that nothing was put in writing, it seemed to calm them down. General Jozuku did ask for their names and those were duly noted. One thing was sure: if Joustra would pull another stunt like that it would increase the chances for A. Bartstra to take over as camp leader. The commandant values her advice and calls on her often.
At 6 PM Bartstra asked me if she knew where the commandant was because they hadn’t seen him for a while. I joked that he might have committed suicide, but it startled me to see the reaction of Joustra. She admonished me not to make light of such matters, because I didn’t know in what state of mind he was. Her comment startled me.
Later that evening we heard fanatical singing and yelling, and exclamations shouted in unison coming from the Jap camp. Later on Jamadji announced several changes to Joustra.
Valderpoort: August 23. This morning the barrack leaders met with Mrs. Joustra to protest her highhanded methods. They told her that she should not have taken it on herself to represent the women when she had not discussed this matter with them first. Was it really necessary to pull a stunt like that? She admitted to have been at fault in some matters, but evaded some of the questions by parrying with responses that were not really pertinent to the calamity she had caused. It was fortunate that no part of her speech had been delivered in writing, otherwise there might have been a good possibility that the Japanese authorities would have aired her message to Japan with our heartfelt thanks. She had the gall to say that she would have sanctioned this. The dissent concerning this matter was great and many did not trust her anymore. We all hope, from the bottom of our hearts, that this regime will soon come to an end. The people have been depressed because there has not been an appreciable change in our situation. No news has come our way about the husband, brothers, and sons in Pare-Pare; the POW’s in Makassar, and those loved ones from Ambon and Timor. Sure, we did receive mattresses for the hospital, and the deposed Dr. Marseille, who was a butcher for a while, has been promoted to be a MD on paper. Jamadji probably thought it wise not to present this doctor as a butcher when we were freed. That is why the hospital must be presented in a better light.
Several points were highlighted during the last meeting: was the speech in Makassar presented in writing in Malay and English? If that were the case a written protest must be submitted by our own authorities, which should make it clear that the first speech was submitted without our consent. Indeed, what did the military do for us? Nothing! The Minseibu did not provide us with the necessary medical supplies and food, when these were in short supply such as coconuts, fruit, peanuts, and brown sugar. We paid for the bales of food ourselves, and much of it was returned to Makassar. Although there was a great shortage of blankets, these were replaced by the fabric of the bales that were delivered to the camp. However, after the bombing raid we suddenly received 1,070 new bales. The same was true for the buckets we had requested.
There had been little protection from the military, considering the apparent presence of explosives around the camp. During the raid they shot at the Allied planes from inside our camp. They in turn machine-gunned the Jap’s positions. It was because of the military installations around the camp that we suffered 5 dead during the raid. Therefore it should have been the civilians that should have been thanked and not the military. Also, it would have been better if this kind of speech could have been delayed until the allied authorities would have taken command.
This list was signed by the ladies Th. Pfeiffer, A. Jansen-Brouwer, M.v.Dijk, M.W. Brune-Schouten, A. Corten, C. Diekerhof, M. Onvlee, A. Herdes, G.v. Alphen, W.I. Willems-Geeroms, Mother Superior, J. Lagas, L. Weerdt, F.B. Bikker-Pelikaan, E.J. Verdenius, and H. Lindeboom.
Voskuil: Friday, August 24, 1945. We, who live in classroom 7, are slated to move to barrack 16. We also need to be ready to move in the middle of the night if the fickle commandant wants us to. However, our fears were ungrounded; the occupants of 3 other classrooms and small houses are moving to barrack 16, those staying at the sewing center are going to house no.’s 11 and 12, and the women’s hospital ward will move to the sewing center.
At 1 PM a Liberator landed on the airfield behind our camp and took off half an hour later to the Northwest. This is the first time that we saw an American land here.
Ger van der Noorda acts as interpreter to translate several accounts for the commandant. She sat in the former office of Jamadji; he sat behind a desk, which was especially moved there for him.
The cemetery is being spruced up. It is being enlarged and a concrete wall is being built around it.
Valderpoort: August 24. Rumor has it that a Nipponese policeman came to get Jamadji’s sword. This is a relief for many because he honed the sword on a daily basis and actually made threatening moves toward a few of us. Like a few days ago when Mrs. Seinstra and Mrs. Gout had to stand guard at the sewing center. Jamadji was outside dressed in a kimono and flashing his sword in the moonlight; he ordered them to come out. They looked through a crack in the wall and saw him. They didn’t dare to go but realized that they had to. They made a sudden dash through the door and ran off, while he ran after them, screaming and brandishing his sword. Then he started yelling at Joustra who apparently had misunderstood matters concerning the guard at the sewing center. It is a shame that his attitude toward us is still rude and uncouth now that there is peace. Many feel depressed that no apparent change has come in spite of our freedom. We don’t know anything about the men in Pare-Pare or the POW’s of Ambon and Timor.
This afternoon Mrs. Voskuil suddenly came to get my report. I had just finished it with pencil and it needed to be typed, but she had to have it now. I heard that everyone who did a report had to turn it over so that Jamadji could have it translated by Mrs. v.d. Noorda. His opinion about the reports of the Father and Mrs. v. Goor was that they were too long and too detailed. I will probably hear the same thing because I wrote 10 sheets with small letters. He will probably scratch his head when he reads about all the misery and hunger we suffered.
When the Father heard from Jamadji that his report was too longwinded, he answered that he would shorten it and give the longer version to his bishop and government. Jamadji was visibly shocked and asked him if he also had to hand over his reports, to which the Father replied: “Of course.”
Voskuil: Saturday, August 25, 1945. When the Father was congratulated on his birthday, the men were visibly exited about the fact that guards, coolies, and overseers called out that the American fleet would arrive in Makassar today. The men took out their best clothes and polished their shoes. There is a joyful atmosphere in the camp, except for those who know that they will have to face the future alone, they are filled with sorrow. But the worst is yet to come for those who still don’t know about it.
Yesterday the landscaping crew of Jans Luyendijk had to clean up around the post. Today all rusty items, which were stored next to the clinic, must be taken to the meadow behind a hedge.
We are still receiving new wooden beds for the hospital
Rumor has it that 40,000 Japs have been disarmed today.
Valderpoort: August 25. When we first came down to this jungle camp I came down with malaria. I didn’t stay in bed because I had too much to do. But it seems that I am coming down with another attack, so I will take some quinine and take some bed rest. Rumors are doing the rounds that pamphlets, which have been picked up by the natives, announced the landing of the American fleet in Makassar. Allied planes that flew over yesterday and today presumably dropped the pamphlets. A native policeman, who did the rounds today, passed on the news himself. But so far there’s nothing new to report. We did hear loud noises during the night and this morning. They could have been explosions or cannon fire.
People moved into barrack no. 16 yesterday. The members of the court moved there too. These women of “nobility” lived, ate, and slept with the Jap from July 17 to August 24. Therefore it is no surprise that many of us show disdain for these women.
Voskuil: Sunday, August 26, 1945. Yesterday afternoon Japs and native workers placed a large black tarp in front of the school. It was fastened to the ground with pointed sticks, which were driven into the ground. Then large P.W. letters were painted in bright yellow on the tarp. We were told that it meant “Protected Women”. (I thought that the letters meant “Prisoners of War”. OY) Joustra announced that Allied planes would fly over to make airdrops. Everybody must go into the air shelters to prevent anyone from getting hit. 10 nuns would take care of an equitable distribution among us of the goods that would be dropped. Everyone must know his or her own shelter. It seems that yesterday’s news about a landing was false. Now it is said that the landing will take place between 20th of August and the 1st of September. Also a peace treaty was signed on the 14th of August and Japan had agreed to release Korea and Formosa and not make any demands on war debts. There will be freedom of religion and thought; also Japanese munitions factories will be destroyed. America will take charge of the Japanese economy so that the Japanese people will be free to move inside of their borders. The average Japanese will be better off than before. All Japanese, wherever they may be, must remain on the Japanese islands for the first few years. Japan will get a democratic government, as will Russia.
One of these days Dieudonne will come to Kampili to hold talks with Joustra. He wrote that they had suffered terribly during the last few days, but that they are doing well now. Mrs. Stolk had to make a sudden trip to the old camp with her daughter Tineke; she had to visit her husband who had a severe case of beriberi.
Stolk: It is odd that I remember so little of this time, even although these were very emotional days. Take the armistice for instance; my brain tells me that it happened, but I cannot remember how I felt or what I experienced. Did we sing the anthem? Did we laugh, cry, or cheer? Also, I don’t remember receiving the news that my mother and I could go to Makassar to see my father who was ill. What did I feel, how did my mother bear up to all this? What was the trip like? Were all these memories replaced by what awful times we experienced afterwards?
I do remember arriving at the military hospital. We entered the main hall and went straight to the rear, a typical colonial elevated area with a roof, which was built around a square atrium. There were rooms off the gallery, but cots were placed along the length of the gallery. Apparently the gallery was an extension of the hospital.
I didn’t feel at ease, I have been shy all my life. All of a sudden I was faced by men after having been put away for 3 ½ years, and now I was 20 years old. Obviously they had not been informed of our visit and some of them were taking a shower under long bamboo water conduits that were tied to the roof. A native way of showering.
I was glad when my brother appeared, he had been told of our arrival. I don’t remember anything about this meeting except for the fact that he looked well. He was skinny and probably had very short hair, but he was broad shouldered and had the neck of a bull. Probably a result of the heavy work he had to do. I felt very proud of him and I didn’t mind at all when his friends said that they could tell that I was his sister.
It was not so nice to see my dad. He was in a small room close to a window. I saw a large swelling under the sheet, the result of beriberi. After my mother had greeted him he saw me and said that youth was here. He had bedsores, and when my mother and I tried to move him carefully he cried out. At that time a plane flew over, we could see it from the window. My dad said that it was a Red Cross plane with medical supplies, but it was too late for him. It was indescribably sad.
I don’t remember how long we were there and what else was said. Not much, probably. I also don’t remember the trip back to the camp and our arrival there.
Valderpoort: Sunday, August 26. I don’t feel well yet. This morning a black piece of cloth appeared on the meadow, on it the letters P.W. were printed. According to Jamadji the allied forces requested this. He also said that today or tomorrow airplanes would fly over the camp. Everyone, except for 10 nuns, should stay in the shelters in case something would be dropped from the planes. Everything that fell from the planes should be shown to him first. Mrs. Joustra announced these regulations, but it was sheer nonsense that he had to inspect it first. He has no hold on us anymore. We will see what will happen once that time is here.
It’s a shame that so many are still afraid of planes, and that they still fear bombing raids.
Voskuil: Monday, August 27, 1945. The school has been cleared out and we are in the barracks. School has been resumed and soon the club will be operating too. We received curtains for the aisle. We were not allowed to have curtains in the old barracks, even although we had them. The commandant often threatened to confiscate them, but now that they all went up in flames we received them from the Japs. A lot has changed!
Yesterday the commandant held a meeting with barrack leaders and crew leaders. He explained that he was only to stay until the war was over and that he was under orders of the Allied Forces. He said that he was a simple man and not very bright, but if there were troubles in the camp, they should come to him. He resembled a Chinese merchant ready to take orders from his clientele. He added that, if the problems became too hard to handle, he would go to Makassar for advice. He then asked us if we needed anything. The response was: “World news, papers; and coolies to haul water, work in the cassava fields and process rice for our consumption.”
The result was that, right after the meeting, van Diejen was named to be acting boss of the coolies. He left us alone for about 15 minutes and returned to announce that Mrs. Jansen and the leader of barrack no. 11 would assist Joustra so that she would not get too tired. If Joustra should fall ill, who would have the courage to take over? Jansen let it be known that she was strongly opposed to the purpose of Joustra’s little trip to Makassar. However, the commandant said that he was the one to blame. He was the one who had spoken to Joustra, Deibler, and Mobach and had sworn them to secrecy. He called on them the following day so that they had no time to talk to us first.
When Jansen was appointed to be Joustra’s assistant she objected violently, saying that she didn’t have time because she had to take care of two sick children. The commandant gave them two days to think it over, but both insisted that they would decline.
The commandant made a clever move, to name two of the most vehement protesters of Joustra to be her aides. When they refused they had lost all rights to critique her any further.
Rumor has it that the Americans will arrive between the 29th of August and the 1st of September. The grounds are cleared; the hedge around the meadow was removed, as well as bamboo sticks that had been placed on the field. The club is open and there is even a piano. We are allowed to write letters in Dutch to Pare-Pare and Makassar; only 50 censored words.
The work in the camp continues as usual with the help of coolies who are getting paid with fabric that came into the camp for our dresses. The coolies won’t take money.
All day long explosions were heard.
The wooden containers that were used to pound rice grains into flour were taken away. Native women will take over, so that more manpower will be available for hauling water and other work.
The Father isn’t docile toward the commandant anymore who resents it, as does Joustra. She feels that, since he is a man of the cloth, he should set an example and show a proper attitude towards Jamadji.
The commandant has changed all the reports and returned them to the authors. They must begin to write their information papers with an account of how a visitor would be informed about the history of the camp.
Valderpoort: August 27. Early this morning Mrs. Joustra asked in the name of Jamadji if I wanted to move back to house 5a. Living down there would be preferable to living up here, but I don’t like the idea that I’m on his mind again.
There also was a meeting where he tried to find out why we objected to Joustra’s leadership. Annie Bartstra told him that Joustra liked to do things her own way and that everybody else had to do what she said. She wanted to do everything herself and in so doing delayed many matters unnecessarily; she also mentioned the infamous Makassar trip. He then reiterated that it had probably been his fault since he rushed them to go to Makassar, so that they had no time to talk about it. Bartstra waylaid him by saying that they had known about this plan two days before they left for Makassar.
Mrs. Weidner asked him if the boys still had to do the work. It startled him, but he kept his composure and said that the coolies would take over.
This afternoon Mrs. van Diejen had been told, rather rudely, that she didn’t have to take care of the cassava fields anymore, and that she had to move into the camp, which dismayed her no end. Let’s hope that the end will be here soon.
August 28. We are now allowed to exchange letters between Pare-Pare and Makassar, 50 words only, to save extra work for the censors. Understandably, this new rule caused a lot of critique and questions. After all, we don’t have to pacify the Japs anymore and we should be allowed to put our thoughts on paper any way we want to. Thank goodness that we can write in Dutch; imagine that this would not be allowed either.
The blackboard also mentioned that coolies could be hired, not for money but for marketable goods. They don’t trust the value of Jap money, and we still have a suitcase full of it. The 80,000 guilders that we received from Holland some time ago.
A. Bartstra held a meeting in the jungle camp to decide who should be named tomorrow to help Joustra with important decisions so that she cannot make important decisions by herself anymore.
Seth Paul: Of course no one fears the Allied planes anymore. On the evening of the 23rd of August a Liberator was in the air, and on the 24th a Dakota flew very low over the camp.
When the war was over a lot of tension was relieved for many, including my mother who became seriously ill in the jungle camp. During her illness she called out deliriously, and I can still hear her say: “The 2nd of September, everything will be in the past.” We didn’t know what she meant. After all, the war was over on the 15th of August.
Voskuil: Wednesday, August 29, 1945. This morning at 8.30 AM Mrs. Logeman-Hartelust died of dysentery. A request had been made to get her husband and son from Pare-Pare, but that would have only been possible if Jamadji would have gone to get them. That would have taken all day, and he couldn’t be missed that long. Yesterday at 5 PM Mrs. Joustra had said that it would have been too late anyway.
Dirty upholstered chairs, a carpet, and a piano were delivered today. Four of the cleanest ones were put in the commandant’s house and the other eight were delivered to the club.
The pigsties were dismantled; from now on we will eat a pig a day.
Old iron in the meadow was taken away by the natives, the hedge was removed because we ate the cows.
The field in front of the school has been swept clean, and the 4,500 incendiary bombs were also taken away by the natives.
The curtains are hanging in the barracks, and we get 4 shelves per 4 persons.
Valderpoort: August 29. This morning Mrs. Logeman died of dysentery. (She was our English high school teacher-OY) She was getting better and had started to walk around, but she suddenly had a relapse; her heart wasn’t strong enough. She had a husband and an 18-year-old son in Pare, but they couldn’t be with her during her last hours. This is particularly bad since this is peacetime. The doctor had asked Jamadji if her family couldn’t come, but he didn’t think that it was necessary. And now it is too late, too bad.
It is about time to improve the food supplies and living conditions; many are very tired and are near collapse. Maybe this is caused by the disappointment that there is virtually no change in our existence, even though it will be two weeks tomorrow that ‘peace’ was proclaimed. Jamadji seems to be a little calmer and is not quite as arrogant and bossy as he used to be, but it will be a relief when he is gone altogether.
The rice pounding blocks are gone, as are 50 bales of rice. Natives who will be paid with goods will now do this work.
This afternoon a decision was made to make A. Bartstra Joustra’s aide, so that both of them, and not Joustra alone, will make decisions concerning the camp. Later on it seemed that Mrs. Mastrigt was also named an aide. We will see if this was a wise choice. Her relationship with Jamadji was never really clear. The best thing for us would be an end to this existence. It is so sad and depressing that we don’t hear anything from the outside world.
Voskuil: Thursday, August 30, 1945. We received an extra sugar ration. Rehearsals are held for tomorrow’s festivities. The color orange is being passed around. Uniform dresses have not been finished yet; they are not to be worn until all of them are sewn up.
The front receiving room of the post has been readied for the arrival of the Americans. This morning an American plane, high in the sky, caused an uproar. Everybody fled into the shelters, but the plane flew on without causing troubles.
Joustra has received a lot of criticism in the camp. Her appointed aides, Onvlee and Jansen, didn’t want the job, and in their place Bartstra and Noor have been chosen, but first the commandant has to agree. Joustra’s position is precarious, as well with the commandant as with the camp members. Valderpoort is embittered and is plotting revenge for after the war, when she will emerge as a champion. She let people know that Joustra had called the camp after the fire a labor camp. She cynically wondered aloud if that meant that the jungle camp was a vacation spot.
Just now the commandant left for Makassar with sister Jeanne who needs surgery; the mother superior and sister Marcaria went too. The mother superior and sister Marcaria really couldn’t be missed now, but the commandant convinced them to go.
When the commandant returned in the evening he called for Joustra, who had just taken off for the jungle camp where a mass of incendiary bombs were found outside the perimeter. Some of them had ignited spontaneously. Joustra had told the tailor to call on van Meijgaard and a few boys with shovels. Two policemen, the tailor, and a few coolies extinguished the fire by removing some of the brush around it and throwing dirt on the fire.
After this incident Joustra went to meet with Jamadji, who asked her angrily why the meadow was not ready for tomorrow’s festivities. Even although it was dark it had to be taken care of…. and it was. The boys helped haul chairs and many prizes were made available for the competitions that were going to take place. Ans de Bruyne counted the amount of the prizes with the help of the teenage girls. There were towels, shirts, and cans with talcum powder, pencils, paper, crates with syrup bottles, and thousands of pairs of tennis shoes. Each adult would receive a pair of these on the 31st of August. Another truck, loaded with upholstered chairs, arrived also.
Valderpoort: August 30. This morning sister Jeanne left with the mother superior and sister Marcaria for Makassar. Sister Jeanne needs surgery. Since there are no Dutch surgeons, Dr. Goedbloed suggested that a Japanese surgeon perform the operation. Let’s hope that the patient can be helped.
This morning another Allied plane was sighted, but it flew off; another disappointment.
Voskuil: Friday, August 31, 1945. The festivities for Queen’s Day started at 9.30 AM, an hour later than planned. There were decorations of flags and flowers, and the portrait of Queen Wilhelmina, which had just been finished by Bep Palstra, was adorned with a beautiful wreath. There were many tables covered in white, and enough seating for all the adults. The commandant, dressed in white, came ambling over with a shy grin and sans his sword. An orange decoration had been placed on the left side of his uniform jacket. He took a seat flanked by Joustra on the left, and Nanning, Bartstra, and Valderpoort on the right. Also seated in the front row were the reverend, the pastor, the doctor, and Mrs. van Goor.
The choir sang first, then Mrs. van Goor rendered an inspiring speech. Joustra was going to read a congratulatory letter, but it had not arrived; she did read a letter from the Navy commander: “I congratulate you with the birthday of your Queen.” She added that the prizes and the large cake also were a gift from the Navy commandant. Then she read Jamadji’s congratulatory letter; he didn’t speak Dutch well enough to read it himself. He mentioned that he hoped that the tie between Holland and Japan would be a friendly one, just like before the war. Then we sang our national anthem “Wilhelmus van Nassauwe”, and drank a toast to the Queen with wine or whiskey.
The sport activities came next. A photographer took pictures and also photographed the barracks. The first picture he took was one where we were grouped around the commandant.
In the afternoon a soccer match in costume was held. At 6.30 PM the commandant invited 30 representatives to dinner, which was held on the floor of the bombed out women’s hospital; no walls, no roof. He had wanted to invite everybody, but this was impossible. Then there was piano music and singing in the meadow. Afterwards people returned to their barrack with a chair or a lamp, which were purloined. (I remember getting deathly ill after I consumed an alcoholic drink that day-OY).
Valderpoort: August 31. The Queen’s birthday and peace! We couldn’t put those two words together for 5 years, but now we can. The general mood in the camp is still noticeably depressed because we haven’t heard anything from the outside world.
Jamadji wanted us to celebrate on a grand scale, and he worked at it. Children and adults alike were treated to an extra mug of sugar, a bag of candy, and an elaborate meal for some.
There were sport competitions for the kids who would get all kinds of prizes like pencils, notebooks, talcum powder, handkerchiefs, etc. Today’s program started with a Holy Mass at 7 AM, and a solemn ceremony in the meadow. However, Jamadji decided to change everything, so that the program started an hour and a half late.
He had arranged rows of seats and each adult received a glass with a healthy amount of “celebration wine”. A large portrait of the queen was sketched on a white background, which was mounted between two trees. It had been decorated with flowers and flags. The ceremony started with a choir song and an inspiring speech of Mrs. van Goor. Then the singing our national anthem followed. A birthday wish for the Queen from the naval commandant was read to us, and
Jamadji also presented his good wishes. Mrs. van Veen then sang Mozart’s “Hallelujah” accompanied by Mrs. Duyvene de Wit on the piano.
After a long time Germany and Russia are at peace too.
The memorial speech of Mrs. van Goor was very good and mirrored our mood during this period of waiting, while we were standing in front of the house of our desires, we still find the door shut.
In the afternoon competitive sports for the kids were held. At 3.30 PM a Protestant service; the reverend van Spreeuwenberg gave an excellent sermon about psalm 21: “The King trusts the Lord.”
Then a costumed soccer match was played and at 7.30 we enjoyed a pleasant get-together in the meadow. We sang patriotic songs to piano music. We had received two pianos from Makassar; one had burned during the fire.
We were served coffee and croquettes. In the afternoon invitations were passed out by Jamadji, I was one of the invited. Jamadji had already seen to it that I wouldn’t take my usual place among the people in the morning. I was seated at his table with the ladies Joustra, Nanning, and A. Bartstra.
During the evening meal Mrs. Joustra asked me if I wanted to sit next to Jamadji, because he would appreciate that very much. I declined and told her that I would not. Instead I sat with Mrs. Pfeiffer and Bouman; opposite of the pastor and Mrs. Herdes. Since we didn’t sit close to Jamadji we avoided drinking a lot of wine, which he urged us to do. He would come around and fill our large tumblers to the rim, we would pour the wine into a bottle that had been placed under the table. All in all, the mood of the dinner guests was good, as was the food. We returned to the jungle camp hoping that there would come a quick end to our stay here. Hopefully we can celebrate the next Queen’s birthday in roomier accommodations and in peace and happiness.
The telegram from the Naval commander read: “I congratulate you with the birthday of the Queen of Holland”, this greeting came with a large cake with orange icing; the cake was given to the sick. Jamadji’s birthday wishes in the Malay language read: “On this memorable day I send you my heartiest wishes. In the future may this day be celebrated in your Fatherland with your families and your Queen. I hope that our countries may resume the friendly relations we enjoyed in the past. I wish that you may enjoy a day that you will remember for years to come.”
It all seems to be fabulous and some of us are deeply impressed. Many women showed a great deal of enthusiasm when Jamadji showed up with the orange, red, white and blue colors on his chest. Others felt offended.
Yet, many have a short memory and live from day to day, even judging the deeds of this man. Just now a load of tennis shoes and blankets arrived for the adults, and this man suddenly becomes idolized. Forgotten are the abuse, the humiliations, the shortages, and the pestering that all of us and some particularly, had to endure.
BALOKAN/Poll: At the beginning of August I was summoned to the office where two Japs waited for me and ordered me to go with them. Experience had taught me that I could not expect anything pleasant from these guys.
They walked behind me on the path to the road and muttered my name the Japanese way, “Polloo, Polloo”. A car awaited us at the inn and I had to sit in the back seat. After about twenty minutes the old car refused to go and I was put in a small storage place at a nearby house. I spent the night on a bamboo bed with several native coolies. The next day the car had been repaired and we continued on to Makale. When we came close to Makale a bag was thrown over my head; apparently to intimidate me or to keep a deep secret from me.
After we arrived at a brick house I was taken to some kind of office and was asked to take a seat. It became clear to me now that I had been taken to the Kempetai, the Japanese Gestapo. Years ago, before Celebes was occupied by the Japs, I held a position as a government official in Malili. I was being accused of continuing a resistance movement against the Japs after I had been interned with the help of allied spies and my native assistant, Mr. Imbar. This was totally untrue and I denied that I had ever been involved in such a plot.
The Japanese interrogator, talking calmly and reassuring, tried to get me to sign a Japanese document that stated that I had indeed been involved in a plot to resist the Japanese occupation. He tried to convince me that I had a right at that time to do that in my position, and if I would sign the document I could return to the camp.
At that time I didn’t know that Mr. Imbar had been so badly tortured by the Japs that he had died. I held on to my denial and the interrogator became physically aggressive. I was undressed and unmercifully beaten with bamboo poles. Then I was asked again to sign the document, and when I resisted, I was exposed to water torture. In between I was asked to sign the paper. I almost choked when they poured water down a funnel into my throat. I finally gave up, they loosened the ropes, and the following day I set to write a release that implicated me in ordering Mr. Imbar to involve Allied spies to resist the Japs.
In the meantime I gathered from the talk of the native guards, that Mr. Imbar had died at the hands of the Kempetai. I now hoped that they would accept my fictitious role in this spy story. I had to wait because; somewhere there was an end to resisting torture. It took several days before my story was accepted. Finally I was taken to a cage which was so low that I had to crawl on my knees and hands to get in and out of it. I still was not convinced that they would let me go.
Several days later something odd happened in the evening: the Japs entered the space where my cage was located. I could see them through a small hatch of my cage. I saw a small altar and they started to call out or pray loudly. They became so excited that I thought that surely my time had come.
The next morning a Jap officer handed me a razor when he woke me, he allowed me to take a bath and shave. He also instructed me to eat well. In the afternoon I was taken back to the camp, this time without a hood. I was told to keep my experiences with the Kempetai to myself or I could lose my head if I didn’t. My camp colleagues thought that they saw a ghostly apparition when they saw me; I must not have looked too well.
Several days later it became clear why they had let me go: the atom bomb had been dropped. This news came to us via several native family members of one of the prisoners in our camp. I received a packet with towels, soap, and a letter from the Kempetai in which they apologized for their treatment. I handed this packet over to the Minister of Justice when I was confronted the abusers after the war in Makassar. I couldn’t say with absolute certainty which ones had tortured me. I really didn’t care the only thing that bothered me that my faithful assistant, Mr. Imbar, had become a victim of the Japs without having done anything wrong.
Welleman: 8/5/45. Today I was admitted to the hospital for the umpteenth time, dysentery again. Fortunately I am alone in my nook and I can study the Malay language and the Islam religion. Other than that we have no food whatsoever, except for a small buffalo that was butchered.
I had just taken Epsom salts so I don’t mind that there is no food. The future looks very bleak on this Orange Sunday.
The day is not over yet and we must keep our courage up.
About a day ago the old Mr. Van Wijngaarde died and Hoefnagel followed him this morning. The latter had been ill for a long time, but under normal conditions he could have survived. These last days are the worst!
Wiebe Seth Paul: We were taken back in groups to the old Pare camp, close to the coast. The boys usually were put on the luggage trucks as some kind of guard. I experienced a minor accident during this trip, because the truck hit a small wall over a bridge. Probably because the driver was very tired. Thank goodness that I didn’t land down in the river, because an object on the truck deterred my fall. The only memory I have of this incident is a sore knee, which I can still feel from time to time.
Once we were in Pare we were told that we could move around freely, but we had to watch possible hostile actions of the natives, since this country was now named the Republic of Indonesia. Dr. Julius also advised us how to protect ourselves from venereal diseases. It was feared that we would go overboard with sexual experiments.
We left the camp in groups and have not noticed any hostile actions on the part of the natives. We did see some that sported a red and white pin. I myself never noticed any sexual activities in my group. We were glad that the doctor informed us, because we had no idea what was available in that field. I dare say that the boys in our group were just as green now as when they first came to this camp.
During the short time that we waited in Pare-Pare to return to Makassar we had one sad and one good experience.
The sad event happened when the only boy in our camp died. There was mix up between the Protestant minister and the Catholic Father as to who should render the funeral service. The boys, including me, paid their respects wistfully to the only friend that left us.
The nice thing that occurred was when the Allies, our friends, dropped goods on the former garden complex.
On the 24th of September 1945, my father and I were finally reunited with the rest of the family from the Kampili camp in Makassar.
Welleman: 8/6/45. This morning we woke up to the news that a load of rice had arrived in Balokan. In the afternoon we had some rice porridge for the first time since yesterday morning; we only received 94 kg. No breakfast this morning and yesterday’s evening meal consisted of some soup. Yesterday afternoon there was no food either. Despite our precarious food supply, (I don’t think we’ll have anything to eat tonight) the prognosis seems to be excellent. We are very hopeful.
I think that I am getting better; the Epsom salts are working well. It is nice that a fire burns night and day in this barrack. There is also some cigarette tobacco available.
Just now we heard that another 500 kg of rice had arrived. That means that we can rely on another 2 days of food.
8/8/45. We have eaten nothing else than red rice and vegetables, I mean that I eat rice porridge with vegetable broth. I feel just fine. I am glad that red rice is available again, even although it is only for six days more. Another buffalo will be butchered today. If the sun breaks through it promises to be a beautiful day.
I sleep about 8 to 11 hours at night; sometimes I keep my head under the covers, because the nights get pretty chilly at times, and it rains quite a bit.
I am still waiting for my breakfast; how long will it be before I can share it with my family?
8/12/45. It is Sunday again; I’ve been in the dysentery barrack one week. The silent mass for patients has just ended. Coffee was served and we’ll have breakfast pretty soon. I like it and I am getting better, right now it seems like I have a severe case of diarrhea instead of dysentery. My stay here is an improvement over the barrack; a fire burns all the time. The quality of the food is reasonable, and it’s a good thing that we have red rice. Only the red membrane is indigestible.
8/17/45. In the hospital my bed is next to Monti, a genial, round man. Before the war he weighed 164 kg. but now he tips the scale at 67 kg. Even although I am mostly cured I still have the day off. I wish for an end to the war, and that I was healthy and strong again, and that I could go back to work and know that there is a cozy home waiting for me.
It is a beautiful, sunny day and I am writing this while sitting in the sun on a tree trunk outside. The housing for the sick is a miserable, dank and dark tent. It is made of wood and native grasses, smoky and dirty. A few seriously ill men are staying in this contraption: a CPA named Coenen, died yesterday, he was 60 years old. Then there is old man Schouw, he is 69 and looks like a ghost. Their food consists of the same rice or rice porridge with some wild greens and a bit of salt. Those that are really bad off get a porridge that is made of ground rice flour. We get coffee twice a day, but it is very weak and resembles colored hot water more than the real thing. Sometimes Monti and I prepare an extra pot of strong coffee, but we now lack the funds to buy extra coffee. We now smoke leaves of vegetables only. We can’t get anything that would make life more appealing anymore. What we did get was buffalo meat for three days with our evening meals, and some soup in the morning. But this is a cold, chilly, and aimless existence. We are waiting for our friends to come and free us. It isn’t often that I feel as depressed as I do today. Of course this will pass, but for the moment I feel like screaming out. The mood in the camp isn’t improving either. We watch each other closely to make sure that no one gets a bit more than the other does. Quarrels break out when the food is distributed in the kitchen and to those that live in the compound. Each grain of rice, each small green leaf, each morsel of meat counts. The main meal is the evening meal, because then we get a bit more rice than we do in the morning. A small portion of rice porridge is hardly worth mentioning, and we are glad if some salt has been added. After the supper we sit around a fire and dream. We listen to camp gossip, and discuss how certain cases of corruption should be handled. Food gets stolen out of the cooking drums and the buckets on the way to the compound, etc. Then, at 8 PM, when everything seems to take on a more sinister shape because of the fire, I crawl into my cold laundry bag, and throw an old robe and several jackets around me and enter the long, dark, chilly, and cheerless night. Before dawn I sit by the fire, warming a cold cup of coffee for me and Monti, and wait for breakfast.
It is almost impossible for the sick to be bathed and washed because of the piercing cold. Trimming our hair and beards also poses problems. And so our entire life, including the housing facilities, clothing, appearances, food, and our own actions present us with an image of hopeless misery, monotony, and a feeling of desertion. When will be ever be freed to be part of the living world and look forward to a meaningful goal. Freedom! To be able to do whatever we want within the norms of a normal society. Sometimes the situation in this ravine is unbearable, although the attitude of the guards toward us is reasonable. During the last few weeks their behavior has been calm and peaceful.
The sun shines bright in an unusually blue sky. One of the patients in the hospital is a blind piano tuner, Huissen. This kind of life must hold more terror for him than it does for us. Then there is the old man Berghuis, who awaits death because of throat cancer. He can hardly eat or speak, and seldom leaves his bed. He receives shots every day. He is in very bad shape. Thank goodness that most of us are in better shape in spite of our present conditions. Maybe it is still worse for us who are still looking forward to another life than for those who are at death’s door and have reconciled themselves with their fate.
8/20/45. We don’t know what to think about the rumors that our friends bombed the women’s camp. Surely they must have known where you are? We must wait to find out the truth or whatever has been hushed up. One thing is for sure; you live in a place of unrest on God’s earth.
I am still in the hospital barrack and ailing. There is nothing available that could give me strength, no eggs. They cost over a guilder a piece on the outside, brown sugar costs anywhere from 10 guilders and up for a small ball. I feel very cold most of the time because I am skin and bones.
Tomorrow another buffalo will be butchered. We get one buffalo per five days. A few Japanese doctors arrived and saw to it that we would get added supplies. But things will drag along the old way. Our rice supply seems to be the only thing that we have plenty of. We passed the times of real hunger.
8/21/45. HURRAY!!! How can it be, we are mad with excitement. Toda, the Japanese camp commandant, has not passed it on yet. The war is over! The news is that we are leaving for Makassar the day after tomorrow, dressed in our best clothes, to face a free future. I quickly borrowed some money to buy some eggs and tobacco, but we don’t overdo it. Tonight we are allowed to burn lights. However, right now the old man Schouw is given the last rites, even although he has not died yet. It is 4 PM.
Maybe all of you are free already. Whatever the case may be we are getting a slew of food tonight: sugar, coconut oil, buffaloes, everything must be finished. Terrific, what emotions. I hope that my stomach will not give me anymore trouble, I doubt it, because I feel like I have been reborn.
Toda, who did everything he could to help us, was crying when he told us about the end of the war. Of course those were not tears of happiness.
The day started out being very foggy, but the sun appeared. Bill Monti shared two cans of corned beef, which appeared magically. We will have it with our rice tonight.
From the 27th of March 1942 to the 21st of August 1945. All misery has passed, no more time to think about all the bad things in our past, we will do that later when we’re all together. We will have so much to talk about. I hope that those rumors about your bombing raid are fiction, so that it won’t dampen our spirits. Let’s hope for the best. I will now stop writing and hope to see you soon.
Badenbroek: August 22. Today is my birthday. Wouldn’t you know, today we were told about the armistice. Actually, it didn’t happen that way. We were called together to listen to an important speech of the Japanese commandant. We were told that we would return to Pare-Pare. Then we guessed the reason why. If the trucks had not stopped running (because of a shortage of gasoline?- OY) we would be free. We were right. It was a hard trip, but we were full of good cheer. Peace! It made our weariness and pain disappear.
Unfortunately one of our boys, Boy Weyers, didn’t survive the trip. He died of acute appendicitis. Several men ate too much and suffered from edema.
When we arrived in Pare-Pare we were housed in a school building. The Japanese were not our guards anymore, but our protectors against the emerging nationalism of the natives. But that is another story.
Welleman: 8/25/45. The Japanese never admitted officially that the war is over, yet we are 100% sure that it was true. The things that we would like to do most right now are to fly to you. Yesterday about 200 men were supposed to have left by car, but nothing happened. Nor does it seem that anyone will leave today or tomorrow. I have been assigned to the transport of the sick; we will probably be the lasts to leave. Otherwise I am as well as can be expected because of the double meat and rice rations that we were given these last few days. Yet there were new cases of dysentery, but we have added medications now. The more serious cases can be helped right away. Well, I need to go, a lot of work remains to be done.
8/26/45. This morning the first contingent of 200 men left. Their probable destination is Makassar. This time the truck is not covered so we can look around us. We were not crammed onto a truck with 25 men and luggage either. The sick are well taken care of. If it is true, we will leave tomorrow. I’m so happy!
Just now Mr. Berghuis died of throat cancer; he never experienced the joy of freedom. How sad.
Monti and I will go together, I like that very much. We are taking a jar of strong coffee with us plus a few hard-boiled eggs. These cost us 2 guilders apiece. We also have a ball of brown sugar, for which we paid 11 guilders, and a roll of tobacco that cost 7 1/2 guilders. I must pack now, no more time.
I just had lunch, my suitcase is in the inn and we’re ready to leave. We hear exciting tales about the nice treatment that is awaiting us, the landing of the Allies in Makassar, etc. I will go to the hospital there, because my bowel movements leave something to be desired. I don’t mind because I will get a thorough check up, and I really need it.
I am curious to know how you are doing. But we don’t commiserate anymore. We have been eating well these last few days, and we will make it, even although I had to borrow some money here and there. The Toradja men take care of our luggage, and we’re on our way to become Tuan (Sir. OY) again. I took out the piece of Lifebuoy soap, which I had saved all these years. I will make it to Makassar.
It’s about time for our departure, because more and more cases of dysentery are being admitted. A probable cause is the amount of fat in our diet that was missing for 3 months. Our systems couldn’t handle it. I myself had an adverse reaction to the greasy broth I had yesterday afternoon. After 3 months I consumed 3 delicious soft boiled eggs. We will make some coffee in a minute and then night will fall, hopefully the last one in this damned place.
8/28/45. My first morning in Pare-Pare. Yesterday I experienced the most glorious trip of my life. Under a bright sun we traveled by truck from Bolong, through Balokan, Makale, Kalossi, Enrekang, and Rappang to Pare-Pare and towards freedom. We arrived in the evening and were housed in the local hospital. Lots of food, fruit, and coffee with sugar. They don’t seem to know how they can spoil us more. Every day we get a roll of good tobacco, and much more. The others are housed in the old military barracks. The hospital is run like a European institution. The male native nurse does the rounds and speaks Dutch. We do have to make do with the place because it still is a bit dirty and messy, since Pare-Pare was evacuated some time back. Never mind, I have a bed, even although it does not have a mattress yet. It will be only for a few days. But we feel like kings. Yesterday evening I bathed luxuriously for the first time in 3 months in a real bathroom.
The old Mr. Schouw died after arrival here.
The trip took its toll on my gastric system; the bumpy ride on the truck didn’t feel too good either.
We cannot see a Japanese flag anywhere. We heard all kinds of rumors, but none can be verified. For instance, it is being said that about 5 or 7 people lost their lives in Kampili; I would like to know more about that, since I have an uneasy feeling about that.
My tummy feels a bit sore on the right side, otherwise I feel fine. Poor Boy Weyers is on the other side and moans because of the pain. It is probably appendicitis again.
I will rest now, I am really tired.
8/29/45. Yesterday afternoon Boy Weyers died. The unfortunate boy was in a lot of pain. This is exceptionally tragic since we are on the verge of being free.
Thanks to the many connections of Mr. Monti, who was an agent for a shipping company KPM, we are being treated royally in Pare. Whatever we get from the camp is so-so, probably because it still is not being managed correctly. Yesterday I received 10 duck eggs, and this morning a bottle of coffee, more food will follow, such as chicken soup. We do our laundry outside, there is a lot of dirty clothing. My suitcase and mattress still have not arrived. Yesterday a Jap did promise some mattresses and mosquito netting, but we haven’t seen them yet. Right now I am lying on the metal frame of the bed which has been covered with a waterproof cover. There is no reading material, so we indulge in loafing and listen to rumors, news, pamphlets, and everything else.
We were always aware of news items in the camp, even in Bolong when everything was covered with newspapers. We always knew what was going on in the world. Of course I could never write about the following in my diary, but about a week after our country was free we drank some homemade rice wine. If we had stayed in Bolong we surely would have died, even more so if there had been a siege in Enrekang. Thank goodness that everything turned out well, and we can look forward to seeing each other again soon.
8/31/45. On the table in the hospital ward stands a flower arrangement with a card that reads: “Our sincere congratulations on the date of the birthday of Her Majesty, the Queen of the Netherlands”. Pare-Pare, 8/31/45. Makassar, Keigun Shireikan, Commandant Japanese Naval Forces.
We then listened to an impressive and touching speech of the reverend Bikker. After that we sang two verses of the national anthem, and cheered three times for the queen and once for the reverend. Those are unforgettable moments.
The Japs gave us each 3 packs of cigarettes. 2 shirts, a pair of shorts, and a loin cloth. There is plenty of food and we don’t lack anything, thanks to the many connections of Bill Monti. They give him anything he wants and then some; and I share in the wealth. I am recovering nicely and I eat like it’s going out of style. While I write this I am enjoying a cup of coffee and a delicious slice of cake. No money, and yet no problems. Too bad that we can’t celebrate this day together. I am so curious to know how you’re doing and where you are. Maybe we’ll see each other soon; I long for that moment.
MAKASSAR/Booy: 8/2/45. Yesterday was quite a day. We had more excitement than we could handle. At about 11 AM the alarm is sounded as usual, we weren’t even aware of it. Suddenly someone saw 7 heavy bombers, at an altitude of about 3,000 meters, approach the workplace. One of them left a smoke trail; probably a signal for the other planes. It was just as if everyone knew that this was going to be the real thing, even although the planes had passed over many times before. Everything happened in a flash. Juno, the administrator who happened to be there, yelled for us to get in the shelters. Josh, however, sent the troops inside because he feared that the plane crews could see several hundred men walk around. He ran into his covered shelter himself. When we heard the bombs drop we threw ourselves to the ground.
The noise was earsplitting and it rained bomb and grenade shards. About three minutes later the scene repeated itself. The first series of bombs hit the native village between the camp and the sea. The second one fell North East of our work area, on the market place Dongaja where 200 natives were killed. Our boys worked until 9 PM to extinguish the fires; the dead and the wounded were everywhere. It seemed that the native village was a storage place for Japanese materials.
We are saddened by the loss of one of our own, Sergeant Schalker. He was a patient in the hospital and was hit in the throat by a piece of shrapnel. There are also three who are seriously wounded, and two have minor wounds. All of them were in the hospital. The camp, the yards, and the workplaces were covered with shrapnel. It is miraculous that we didn’t have more victims.
One of the horses also was killed and was processed immediately so that we’ll have some meat today.
This was not a pleasant experience; I don’t know how far the science of bombs hitting targets has advanced, but anything that was related to the POW’s had been missed. This probably happened on Kampili too.
8/3/45. I lost my first bet on August 1. I made a bet with Frans Wintersbergen when I stayed in the hospital in March ‘44. I was convinced that we would be free on August 1, ’45. This cost me just as much as another bet, which I lost against the American Rainey at the end of May. A case of beer and 50 bucks. I figured out that we would be freed between the end of May and the end of July. It never happened.
This morning we had an inspection of the admiral; he arrived at 9 AM, but didn’t get any farther than the guardhouses. Yesterday morning a P-38 made an inspection flight. Most of us expected the heavy bombers to return today but it is 1 PM and we didn’t hear the sirens go off.
It seems that 1,000 aircraft attacked Japan two days ago, hitting the central and southern part of Japan. Nagoya, which is an industrial city on the island of Kyushu, was bombed by sea artillery. There also is an allied concentration of the Navy between Penang and the Malay bottleneck. Among the warships were the ‘Reknown’, the ‘Queen Elizabeth’, and the French warship ‘Richelieu’. It was declared in Potsdam that Russia would not declare war on the Japanese. I guess they can go it alone.
8/4/45. This morning Yosh left for Kampili to take the 4,500 guilders we gave that to the women. The captain wanted to send more but he was not allowed to do so. The officers were permitted to give 50 guilders for their wives and 50 more for another woman. The lower ranks could submit 25 or 20 guilders for their wives and 5 for another woman. There was some double-dealing because the sub lieutenants were considered to be officers when their income was not an officer’s salary. Those who had left had also given money.
This morning we received our weekly cigarette rations and a bar of soap. A horse was butchered too.
A work crew of 29 men had to bury bombs on the Konings Square. A coconut tree fell on the Jap leader of a telephone repair crew from the camp, he was killed.
8/5/45. Well, it’s 10 PM and everyone is in bed except for the cooks. I can now write about today’s events in peace. The day was filled with excitement and sensationalism, even some fulfillment. It is Sunday and we should have had the day off, but there was going to be an inspection by a Lieutenant General at 4 PM, so we worked as usual. The sirens went off 3 times at 11.15 AM, then again 5 times. This time we all went into the shelters and a lone bomber came over, he had dropped bombs somewhere in Makassar. Then 5 more bombers showed up and all hell broke loose. Bombs came down about 50 meters from our work places. The concussions and the rain of shrapnel were unbelievable. Some time later another 6 planes appeared and gave a repeat performance. We thought that our work place would surely be hit but no, all the bombs fell to the south of us. Thirteen bombs fell in the garden without harming our boys who were working there.
When we lifted our heads we saw a wide band of black smoke and fire. No one was even slightly wounded. Yosh arrived on the scene right away and ordered everybody back to the camp, except for about 30 men. I directed them to the fire with buckets and fire hooks. The Chinese hog farm was burning fiercely. There used to be tall radio towers in the garden. We first found two native bodies without a scratch; they must have been killed by the concussions. A large warehouse was on fire, but since it didn’t pose any danger we continued on to the pigsty. There were about 10 different bamboo buildings; we tried to pull them apart in order to save as many pigs as we could. We had to turn our faces away from the intense heat but we soon had the fire under control. None of the 13 Chinese that lived there was hurt; they were saved by hiding in a shallow dug out. Yosh and I asked the proprietor what he wanted to do with the dead pigs, and he told us that we could have them if we wanted them. We went to work immediately, but when we were halfway through the alarm sounded again. We ran to the gutters along the road that led to our work places. A large B-29 flew at an altitude of about 100 meters and riddled several places with machine gun fire. He went right over our camp. Since we stayed as flat as we could we were not visible from the air. The Japs found refuge with us in a very brotherly way, right next to us. When the plane left we went right back to where we left off.
After we had filled two carts with dead pigs I left for the camp with 10 men, while another 5 stayed behind to uncover the other pigs from under out of the debris. After the second alarm 15 men were sent back to the camp. When we arrived in the camp I told Yosh that there were many more pigs and he dispatched the camp truck with a fresh crew of 10 men. We filled up the truck too and managed to bag a total of 56 pigs, some of them were pretty big. It was a lot of work, first it was difficult to walk in between the sties, then the pigs needed to be dragged through a dry canal bed to the road. When we returned to the camp 20 men had started to ready the porkers for consumption.
Finally the inspection tour of the general could continue; we stayed very quiet lest his attention would be directed to us. They finished up a little after 4 PM and I finally could get a bite to eat. There were a lot of pigs that showed almost no real harm. We bashed their brains in, because we were allowed to keep all the dead pigs. There were some comical moments too, when we had caught several small piglets that were wounded but not dead. The butcher killed them with a knife that was twice as big as the piglets.
A Japanese corporal had garnered 2 chickens and had put them on the car. While I was repairing a tire of the Sutadjo’s bike at about 6 PM, the corporal came to me to complain that a ‘horio’ (POW) had stolen his chickens and asked me to intervene to get them back for him. When I came back to the camp I asked Smith, the American chef, if he knew anything about the chickens and, sure enough, he had received the fowl from KaKoi himself who had told him that they were his and would he please fix them for him. Since Kakoi was the overseer in the kitchen and his rank was Sergeant Major the poor corporal could say goodbye to his chickens. The first 4 chickens disappeared in a delicious vegetable soup.
It is almost 11 PM and a lot of noise comes from the kitchen. Some of the pigs are getting pickled and fried to save the necessary pork fat for the future. We always drew benefits from the bombing raids, while the poor natives bore the brunt. To the south of us many work buildings were still on fire. It so happened that 10 of our mechanics had returned to the camp at 11 AM, while they usually work until 7 PM every day. This almost never happened.
The reaction in the camp was that we had to dig deeper underground under the former Dutch pill boxes, and we had to heap more earth on top. Our hosts still don’t feel very safe. New rules were set forth in case bombs would drop inside the camp too.
The captain, Yosh, and I conferred for an hour about new rules and necessary jobs. I am very busy on days like these, but I take pleasure in doing a good job.
Something funny happened when the general left to get into his beautiful limousine. I forgot to mention it before. The guard was called in and 10 men pushed the car because the starter wouldn’t work. I regret very much that I missed this show.
There is a lot of work for a good artist in this camp; alas we don’t know anyone who could put all this on paper. And so we wait for the next raid, they seem to target this part of the city now. Until now they left us pretty much alone; the result is that a lot was built up in this direction.
It is 11.30 PM now and I’m getting sleepy.
8/7/45. We are two days older and nothing exciting has happened. Yesterday single engine fighters were reported in the South East of town. Just now the alarm sounded, and that was all. According to the papers the Allies sent an ultimatum to Japan but if they don’t accept it an all out war would be waged. It seems that Japan didn’t accept it even although they are out of ammo and fire arms; they still have their knives and American blood will flow. Over here native blood is spilt for the most part. Heavy lidded drums were dug into the ground of the Jap air shelters. The sirens sounded 5 times.
8/8/45. Yesterday nothing out of the ordinary happened other than that a B-29 flew very low. The camp members and the Japs are scared to death that everything on this side will be flattened. The aforementioned drums will be used to house people during a raid. The lid will be pulled over them once they’re inside. They’re not afraid, just careful.
8/10/45. The Polish border was moved to the Oder River. It seems that Poland has become a buffer state.
The days are quiet and I’ve been working on several masonry jobs in the kitchen for several days. It’s a good job. My work starts when I get home, because many ask for my advice about a variety of things.
8/12/45. This is the 4th time that I celebrate my birthday in captivity. There is not much to party with, but we did manage to cook a large pot of rice with shredded coconut, then we enjoyed a cup of sweet coffee with brown sugar.
The pharmacist, Captain van Borne, cooked the rice and brewed the coffee on a heating unit that was part of the apothecary. The day before yesterday Tommie Moore and I fetched the coconuts out of a tree in the officer’s garden. We did this after the ‘lights out’ orders, at 10 PM. It is no easy task to steal coconuts; I had never done it before. It took about 10 minutes before Tom was ready.
You don’t climb a mast in the dark the way you do in broad daylight. You need ‘climbing nails’. The nails are kicked into the tree trunk while you’re climbing, and a stick is needed too. You sit on the stick during this procedure. The nails are tied down with rags. A rope with a bag at the end is tied around the waist. After the climber has reached the top, and is relatively comfortable, he loosens the coconuts by turning the stem and dropping them in the bag. This is hard work especially since the nuts are covered with large biting ants. When 5 pieces are put in the bag it is lowered to the ground where the man on the ground empties the bag. The procedure is then repeated. At one time a coconut fell to the ground and Tom stayed very quiet for a while, but it happens quite often that an old coconut falls. We garnered 13 coconuts and sold one coconut for 4 packs of cigarettes. Then we gave several of them to people who had done us a favor at one time or another. In the meantime Hugo made a delicious cake for which he used 2 coconuts. The cake was served after dinner in the evening. When Tom came down out of the tree he was very tired. Fortunately we could sneak into the hospital without being noticed. We hid the coconuts in a shelter until the following day. We both worked inside and we managed to remove the fiber husks of the coconuts and then carried them inside in the bag.
Something else is going on. Yesterday 69 new prisoners arrived; they belonged to the first group of 50 men who had arrived on Java. They also must go to Java and with them several 100’s of our camp will go too. More than 300 men will stay behind and the rest must leave. We need to fall in at 17.45 hours when everything will be searched. I am still in charge of the 70 specialists. Things are not going the way we expected, we now have a ‘wait and see’ attitude.
8/14/45. The time goes fast, it’s 10 PM Tuesday and we are none the wiser. We fell in on Sunday afternoon and that is as far as it got. Yesterday morning at 6 AM Yosh left for an undetermined destination. It is rumored that he could have left for Watampone or Singkang, and that he would return soon.
Another rumor is that Timochenko entered Manchuria with 2 ½ million Russians. The Yanks are presently operating in the Pacific Theater with 5,000 ships and 34,000 aircraft. The Navy bombarded Yokohama and landings took place on the Malay Peninsula and Sabang. It all sounds terrific and I hope that it’s true.
I have never wanted freedom more than during these last few weeks. To be without a woman for 3 ½ years is unthinkable and almost unbearable. It is sheer madness for the Japs to continue fighting when the whole world wants peace. If they don’t want to stop now I hope that they will be annihilated. I must be patient because nothing can be forced. But so now and then I get the urge to kick everything to Kingdom come because of a helpless fury and impatience inside of me. Then there is a hidden fear that we may have to suffer more misery at the end. When we hear the stories about lack of food and medical care that the newcomers told us, you realize that it could be worse. They think that they live in Paradise here.
8/16/45. We are….
That’s as far as I got. The assembly was trumpeted together and we heard the most unbelievable news. The war is over! This is the way it was. We didn’t suspect anything and returned home at 11.30 AM. Then we heard that all work crews were coming home. Of course we tied these events in to the fact that the men would leave for Java. A while later the crew arrived, this was group SIBA 1. They told us that all Japs had left SIBA and that all anti Ally pamphlets had been removed. Then unit BOW 1 came in; the natives had told them that everything was done with. Then we started to believe the unbelievable. The work crews were searched even more than usual which made us doubt our true situation. Captain Dieudonne was told at 11.45 AM to don his best uniform because he had to report to Head Quarters. Several other commandants were called away too, and we had to fall in at 1.30 PM dressed in our best duds. First an armed detachment of the Jap Army arrived which made us believe that we would be turned over to the Army. Then our unarmed guards entered and positioned themselves opposite the Army unit. Some time later the Japanese camp commander entered with a Jap Army officer and our captain. Our captain told us that he had come from Head Quarters and that he was told that the war was over, but that we needed to stay in the camp until further notice. The work crews didn’t have to go to work anymore, only the most necessary tasks had to be done. We were asked to stay calm. Yoshida had slapped someone this morning, but he seemed to be a very humble man at this time. He and Okabe came to congratulate me. The Japs seemed to be very depressed. They lucked out that no landings had been attempted here. There probably won’t be anything left of Japan. I still cannot believe that all this is really happening. I can now dig up my other diaries and papers. They were buried safely in a nail keg and I poured a layer of concrete around it.
Watching all the happy faces around me gives you a funny feeling. There are quite a few seriously ill men in the camp who are badly in need of good medical care; otherwise they won’t make it. One of my workers, Corporal Dikmans of the Navy, is dying. The doctors have said that there is nothing that can be done for him. Two days ago someone by the name of Posthumus died, he was wounded during one of the last bombing raids. He was the brother of a highly decorated Dutch Navy captain who earned his medals when he managed to take a ship from Holland to England at the onset of the war. He lost a leg during that daring feat.
Today a seaplane is expected which will carry allied officers to Makassar. I hope to be able to send a message soon to my old father to let him know that his youngest son is alive and well. I shall try to bide my time although I would rather start working. Two days ago I felt very rebellious and now, the unexpected really happened. What a day, it is the most glorious one of my life. Long live the Queen!
8/17/45. The first day is history; the camp spent a sleepless night. Yesterday evening I felt like the small boy who was looking forward to a boat trip for my vacation. It’s been years since I felt that way. These events are too much; everyone I talked to didn’t sleep a wink.
Today I took a small crew to the work place to put everything in order, but we are not allowed to do anything for the Japs anymore. Ten Japs were directed by Josh to pack the hand grenades in baskets and carry them off by car.
During the following three days we were ENTIRELY IDLE. The food has improved remarkably. The 69 men who were on their way to Java left for Java this afternoon. Mr. White, who is the temporary commandant of the English, told us that many white flags could be seen on the transport ship.
The captain saw to it that we would not provoke the Japs in any way and advised us to stay calm.
This morning one English man of the group of 69 died, so that only 68 men left. It is 11 PM; a beautiful moonlit night, which was admired anew with regenerated senses. No more remarks are heard about a perfect stage for a bombing raid. Very few natives are in the streets; they are awaiting future events. Many people are very anxious, some are full of joy and others are fearsome. Many feel that the sword of Damocles is already down on their necks, because a lot of dirty laundry needs to be taken care of.
8/19/45. It is two days later and we heard the sirens go off. A 4-engine allied plane was observed high in the sky.
This morning we had to form anti theft crews. The English commit almost all the thefts. Many of them are professional criminals and strict measures must be taken in order to deter the thieves. So much was stolen from the officer’s and hospital gardens that we cleaned everything out this morning. Peace returned after it was announced that they would get a beating from their own people if they were caught. To prevent international incidents, we decided to turn the culprits over to their own people once they were caught. Yesterday evening my former roomie Graafland was caught with an American named Roman. They beheaded a piglet. Such things must not be tolerated; the position of our captain is difficult enough. He doesn’t want to turn anyone over to the Japs, yet he must show that discipline can be meted out without beatings.
The plane dropped an object and disappeared again. The Japs are still living in their quarters.
Yesterday Corporal Dikmans died and last evening Army recruit Negelen passed away. We don’t have coffins anymore, and since we are not allowed to go to the work place we made coffins out of bed slats.
Yesterday morning all of us received a combination cholera, typhus, and dysentery shot. Yesterday afternoon Yosh appeared and made it known that he wanted the auto mechanics to work in Makassar. He raged and swore like he always did, but the captain didn’t let that intimidate him. However, crews were assigned to take care of the vegetable gardens. When this crew reported for work this morning Yosh sent them back. He doesn’t want us to have the vegetables. This situation is very unpleasant.
Rumor has it that civilians from Enrekang are staying at the Empress Hotel, and that allied ships are expected on Monday. The sick still have not been taken to the hospital, and the promise of better food also has not materialized. The only time we had better food was on the day after the armistice was declared.
8/20/45. Yesterday afternoon we heard shots close by. We immediately heard that 4 American warships had arrived in the harbor. However, this proved to be wishful thinking.
This morning we left for the work place with 63 men, while about 10 men went to work in the garden. They took in a goodly amount of greens and the strong men saw to it that every bit went to our kitchen and that the English didn’t get anything. They swore to high heaven, but to no avail.
Yesterday’s plane apparently dropped pamphlets to inform the natives that Japan had asked for peace.
This morning statements were delivered that showed how much we had in the bank. Yosh went to get them and it looks like we’re going to be paid. My credit is 108 guilders, but it is probably worth only 10 guilders.
Yesterday afternoon we received our last ration of cigarettes of 20 packs each. I hope that our next rations will be Camels or Chesterfields.
8/21/45. Yesterday the Japs started at 5.30 AM to take away tools and wood from the workshop, they also took the lathe and other motorized equipment. We took the firewood, and this morning we cleaned out the warehouse and pitched everything that had no value. Tonight they will get the rest of the tools; these will probably go to the BOW II where they will be turned over to another organization.
When we returned to the camp we were searched more thorough than usual. Apparently they’re afraid that we will carry weapons onto the campgrounds.
Whenever we have evening roll call the captain passes along any kind of news. Yesterday evening the men could decide whether they wanted to use the 18-day supply of coffee once a day for 18 days or twice a day for 9 days. However, just now some more coffee and sugar arrived. We pay for this ourselves, also for toothpaste and brushes. We could even get more shoes. We were never supplied with shoes, and we have not had toothbrushes and other toilet articles for over two years.
About 15 minutes ago a two-engine hospital plane flew very low over the city. It probably came from the hospital ship; we hope that the fleet will finally come in.
The English are causing all kinds of trouble, this morning they didn’t want to do anything in the garden. When everyone arrived back at the camp the captain and the English commandant, Mr. White a warrant officer, must change the minds of the Englishmen. Mr. White has lost control of his troops. Sergeant Kruyt, who is a big man, caught several Englishmen cooking mung beans in a trench. Even although it is not allowed, he beat them all up and took the beans to the captain. They just have the mentality of sewer rats, and it will be a relief when they are gone.
8/23/45. Yesterday afternoon we nailed the workplace shut. We would have taken out everything according to plan, but this fell through. Everything is stored away and the electricity is shut off. We placed a warning sign in the Malay language by the front door: DANGER! ELECTRICITY! Then the Sagodjo party was over.
A lot has happened these last two days. The Japs brought in a lot of green fabric and wanted the tailors to make shirts and shorts right away. Yosh even wanted them to work through the night. Since the fabric was painted, the captain proposed that the fabric should be used to make long pajama pants which could be discarded after a few weeks. He also stipulated that the tailors not work longer than 10 PM. Yosh was furious and threatened to take everything away and burn it. He was told to go ahead and everything that had been brought in: the fabrics, the coffee, sugar, toothbrushes, cigarette paper, etc. was hauled away by truck. Then the translator, Mr. Ketel, was sent to ask to speak to the camp commandant. Five minutes later he went in to see him. However, the Sutadjo was not in, just Yosh, and the row started all over again. This resulted in Yosh getting his way as far as the clothing was concerned and the captain managed to see to it that the tailors would work until 10 PM. Ten minutes later the truck pulled up and another load of coffee was taken away.
At 3 PM Yosh approached the doctor to ask for medications that would remove the red stains from the hands of those that had worked with TNT. Dr. Bakker told him that there wasn’t anything that could do that. Yosh told the doctor that he could get anything he wanted all he had to do was to fill out a request form. This was a good chance to get much needed medications. Half an hour later they were delivered. They seem to think that the first impression will make everything all right.
Right now the cobblers must cut canvas to make canvas shoes for the camp. It will take several months to assemble them. We don’t understand their new orders.
A while ago the Sutadjo visited the captain with a Japanese civilian who wanted to look at the books of the camp. Maybe the civilians will take over now to prevent a possible feud.
Another 100 men are expected from Muna, this is the last contingent of those that already passed through here. They seem to have come through Watampone, because that’s where they sent 100 pair of shoes and uniforms.
We still have 2,600 kg sugar in the camp. We now get sweet coffee twice a day and 5 times more sugar for our morning porridge than before. Slowly but surely matters are improving, just now 4 pigs were butchered. One for consumption of the Japs and three will be eaten by us. They are to be consumed tomorrow.
Lieutenant Pallant has announced that all the funds have been turned over officially to the captain. We may also write to whomever we want to write to.
8/26/45. Already it is the 26th and still we’re not free! But a lot has happened. We now live in our own military hospital. Yesterday morning we were told that we needed to pack our things because we would be moved to a better camp. An Army camp that served as a hospital at the same time was to be our new home. No one wanted to go there and the captain protested this move.
While the captain and a new Sutadjo, a Japanese Army captain, looked over the new facilities, the Japs in the camp gave us an order to move. What a parade, everything was piled onto carts and we carried the rest to our new quarters. A few unarmed Japs accompanied us. When we arrived at our destination we realized that nothing had been readied for our arrival, typically Japanese. It looked nice on the outside, but the insides resembled a horse stable. We had to leave everything we had brought with us, and had to return to the old camp for the second load of baggage. Undeterred the captain continued his protest and this time we were allowed to go to the military hospital. A decision was made at 2 PM and off we went. I saw to it that my ward got 2 carts and, piled high, we went to the first camp and hauled everything to our second destination. The Americans had the guts to take a brand new Philips radio from the dirty camp to the second one. They put it in the attic above their quarters; they have access to it by removing part of the ceiling. So far they haven’t been able to learn anything, other than that the POW’s on Thailand could wire messages home. Apparently that country has been occupied by the Japs.
The trip through the town was great! The Army was the last contingent to move and Makassar seemed to be alarmed. In the morning large groups of people had assembled along the road and gave or sold us all kinds of things. It was a glorious allied demonstration. No one paid any attention to the Japs. We received the latest pamphlets in which warnings were issued against the Japs who had abused allied prisoners. They would be severely punished when the allied command would take over. Yosh and his buddies should get ready. This yellow dog still tries to keep face but no one pays any attention to him.
Our situation here is not too good; many are sleeping in the hallways on the floor. Most of us have a bed, but I am not that fortunate; Mook and I sleep on the floor. Since it’s only for a few days, we don’t mind.
The kitchen is much too small, but arrangements have been made to make those facilities adequate for us.
Lieutenant Palland announced that the Japs have no right to order us around anymore. A large board at the entrance to the camp shows the words PEACE CAMP.
Yesterday many went home for a short time; however, at roll call in the evening everyone was present. At 2 AM the last car rolled in from the old camp. This morning the moving of kitchen supplies continued.
Last night at 11 PM the last patient was taken into the hospital.
The natives tore down the fence and an animated trade is going on, like 3 bars of soap for an old pair of shorts, etc. Our period of captivity is slowly but surely coming to an end. We don’t know why we had to move. The Japs won’t tell us, we just had to leave that camp.
8/29/45. We have been here several days now and I haven’t had time to write. Everything is going smoother. The new camp had to have new fencing of course, and all kinds of odd jobs needed to be taken of.
All of a sudden we have been given all kinds of goods. During the last few days we received 16 pieces of soap each, and 10 boxes of matches. The whole camp was given a large quantity of butter, canned corned beef and regular beef, more than 1 kg. sugar per person, above and beyond what had been destined for the kitchen, one bottle of whiskey for 17 men, and more is coming.
The radio was placed in a specific place where no one had access to it, unless they climbed a wall. No big deal.
This evening roll call will be held half an hour earlier, because the English have planned a cabaret performance. However, I will listen to the radio instead, because I want to try to get a Dutch broadcast with news about these regions. We know more about world events than anyone else does. Mac Arthur is getting ready to leave for Tokyo; the Japs have no say about anything anymore. The Allies dictate to them how to handle the POW’s from now on.
There are still a few guards in the camp who help us with anything that Yosh doesn’t want to help with. This gent still has a big mouth but he doesn’t impress anyone anymore. Two Japs who were verbally abusive received a few well-placed slaps.
An official newsletter was received from Mrs. Joustra in Kampili, who mentioned that only 35 people had died during the 3 ½ years; this is a very low figure since there are about 1,600 women and children in the camp.
The wife and daughter of one seriously ill patient came here to visit him.
The captain reads the riot act to the Japs; he doesn’t put up with any shenanigans from them.
We have wooden beds in my room, everything looks great. The whole camp has been cleaned up. They are trying to make the best impression possible when our friends will come. Tomorrow a Chinese merchant will come with eggs, fruit, vegetables, meats, and other necessities. This morning two water buffaloes were butchered for the evening meal. This camp will probably be one of the best ones the Allied Forces will find. But a visit to the Maros Way will change their minds.
We expect the 100 men from Muna tomorrow. Among them will be 14 officers and 50 Dutch men. These men must have suffered a lot. Someone plays the piano every evening. There are several excellent piano players among us, and we enjoyed two performances on an improvised stage.
This is a great transition to freedom. Our stomachs are getting used to greasier and much better foods and we notice that people are putting on weight. Because most of us have nothing to do it is difficult to keep them busy with odd jobs. There are a few faithful ones that I want to remember: two South Africans, Tait and Woodall, the Englishmen, Hilton and Horwell, the machinist 2nd class v. d. Pol, and the Americans, Thorpe and Mariner. I cannot thank these men enough for their help. Everything takes a tremendous effort to get done and I can’t give up, since I am the head of the Engineers.
8/31/45. Two nights in a row I caught the end of a Dutch broadcast from Australia. We already know that the islands south of the Philippines are going to be occupied by Australian and British troops. The Australians will tend to New Guinea, Borneo, and Timor; it is going to be a virtual reality that the British will occupy us. I would rather see the Chinese come here, but that’s wishful thinking. Yesterday at 4 PM Mac Arthur arrived by plane in Tokyo. Next Sunday the official surrender of the Japanese will take place on the battleship Missouri in the Bay of Tokyo. According to the news, the situation in Jap held areas in the Southeast is becoming impossible where native people are concerned. The government of the Dutch East Indies announced that, out of the 10,000 slave laborers that were sent from Celebes to Balikpapan, 6,000 died of hunger. The English fleet is in the harbors of Singapore, Sabang, and Hong Kong; they will land after the 2nd of September.
Two days ago a Dutch broadcast mentioned that Princess Juliana has three daughters now. What a pity that the third child was not a prince. In Japan 87,000 packages were dropped over POW camps there. Today we also hoped to see something. We did see a low flying plane that dropped pamphlets that we read nine days ago. If they don’t know how to improve their propaganda methods, they can stay away.
Yesterday evening 64 men came from Muna, 49 Dutchmen and 15 Englishmen. So far, I saw only 3 Dutch men; the rest are young Indo men. They are in pretty good physical shape. One of them is an English major named Gibsen, from the Royal Artillery. His group members told us that this man was not to be trusted, he lies better than Gobbels, etc. Apparently he deserves the same reputation as the earlier Colonel Vooren. It proves that nothing has changed.
Tonight we will watch a cabaret, the “Orange Cabaret”. Many musical instruments were brought in and an open-air stage has been set up.
Yesterday afternoon the Sutadjo conducted a clothing inspection, and all attire that was mended with pieces of cloth had been taken away. Some people have nothing to wear anymore, but they did receive a bag of candies as a consolation price.
Starting tomorrow the Japs will see to it that we’ll get 200 kg. meat a day. A nice amount. Five pigs were butchered for today, the food is very good. We also had pudding for desert. Two days ago two buffaloes were slaughtered. They’re really trying hard. This afternoon we should get another dose of whiskey; yesterday we were given 3 cigars each.
I am glad that the music is the same, and that the whiskey still is delicious
The captain requested that a telegram is sent to Her Majesty the Queen, but because of technical difficulties it couldn’t be done.
KAMPILI/Voskuil: Saturday, 1 September 1945. The commandant requested a meeting with the barrack leaders and the heads of the different crews. He had a discussion with Joustra last night. It was first announced that, after yesterday’s party, half the chairs and kerosene lamps were missing. Each barrack leader is asked to search her barrack to locate lamps that weren’t there before the party. Then he said that he had planned to go to Pare today but that he had received orders to go to Makassar instead, but he would send someone else to Pare.
The earlier information that seriously ill patients would be moved to the military hospital in Makassar had been rescinded. The POW’s were moved to the hospital. But the commandant asked if we would sanction the presence of a Japanese doctor, who would share the responsibilities of the well being of the camp with Dr’s. Goedbloed and Dr. Feenstra. Since the death of Mrs. Logeman he feared that others might die, and he wanted to lighten the load of our doctors. The commandant also wanted to accommodate the wives who had asked him when they could see their husbands again. He proposed that they could meet in a camp in Makassar where they would be expected to do the same kinds of chores that the upkeep of a camp required. The POW’s were not free yet; there were no allied occupations in the Indies, Thailand, or Singapore. The commandant feels that this camp will be dismantled in two months. Only then will everybody know where to meet his or her family members. Whoever wants to go to Makassar must remember that all Chinese businesses are closed or bombed out so that nothing would be available for some time to come.
Joustra shall write a letter of thanks to the Minseibu for all the presents we received, and she will thank Jozuko for his congratulatory letter he sent with the birthday of our queen.
The men feel that this Western attitude of the commandant is due to politics as I do. If the Japs had won the war the commandant would not have applied these western methods to our present situation. His attitude was born out of necessity because of Japanese losses and in deference to allied wishes concerning the interned. Three years ago any European who didn’t address him with two words would have been hit in the face.
At 1 PM the tailor left for Makassar and then on to Japan, he told us cheerfully.
At 6 PM he returned from Makassar accompanied by a Japanese doctor. He asked for a list of the patients, name, age, and illness. Then we were informed that the 10 most seriously ill would be transported to Makassar on the 2nd of September, accompanied by a nurse. The commandant would decide which patients and which nurse would go. He also wanted a list of the wives who had husbands in Pare-Pare. This led to a state of panic. Those that were calmer felt that they might leave for Makassar tomorrow, while those that are excited think that they will leave this afternoon. But the commandant wants to know how many are involved and make preparations accordingly. He told Bartstra that he would take care of everything.
In the afternoon two cars left with 7 patients and a Japanese nurse who came to get them. A while later we were surprised to see the photo’s that had been taken on August the 31st. They all turned out well.
Valderpoort: Saturday, 1 September 1945. Another month, what will this month bring us? Early this morning I needed to go to the office to have death certificates typed up. Many papers burned during the fire and some would like to have copies of birth and death certificates.
Mrs. Joustra also asked me to prepare historical data of events that took place during her leadership position. Just in case someone would like to have that kind of information for posterity. No problem, I will have something to do again.
This morning a meeting was held and Jamadji announced that it wouldn’t take long before everything will be arranged for us to leave this place. Possibly 2 or 6 months. The Allied authorities have not arrived in the Indies, Malakka, Thailand, and Singapore to prepare these regions for a transfer from Japanese rule to the original governments from before the war. He proposed that a district in Makassar could be created for family members from Pare-Pare and Kampili. Most didn’t go for it, but preferred being in Makassar rather than the jungle camp where one would be more and more susceptible to disease. Especially since the rebuilding of the barracks here isn’t going very fast.
Since yesterday 3 new barracks have been put in use and a 4th is close to being finished. Almost 400 people will be accommodated. There are still about a thousand people living in the jungle camp in awful conditions. No water, primitive toilet facilities, hauling water and food 3 times a day, etc.
The cemetery was enlarged after Mrs. Kieft was buried there; it has been walled off with a nice stone fence. Weeds and other noxious plants won’t take hold for a long time to come so that others can visit this place in the future and find the graves of their loved ones. Each grave will have a tombstone and a wooden board that shows the name and dates of birth and death.
Yesterday afternoon a Japanese doctor came and was informed by Dr. Goedbloed about the conditions of the sick. Jamadji ordered her to report at 8.30 PM. Even although she was exhausted after having been very busy all day long, she went to see him, while she would have rather returned to the jungle camp to rest. When she came to his office she was told that it wasn’t necessary anymore, so she returned to the camp while it was pitch dark. Such annoyances are felt even more keenly now that we are free.
Sunday, 2 September 1945. Today something new happened: ten of the most seriously ill patients were going to be taken to Makassar. This afternoon I stopped by the hospital to say good bye to Mrs. Dee, who is one of them. She suffers greatly from beriberi. We hope that there will be more fruit available there, because only a small amount gets here and it is used mainly for those whose eyes are in bad shape.
A lot of discussion was generated by the fact that 212 families residing in Kampili, who are related to the civilian male internees in Pare-Pare, could go to Makassar, where they would again be interned as family units. Many are happy with this kind of arrangement, while many others don’t feel that they want to go through an internment period again with husband and children. Yet everyone has to make a decision since these compromises comes from higher up. It will probably not take very long for about 700 people from the camp to leave here. It would not be possible for them to live as free citizens in Makassar and the Japs must protect them, at least for a while.
This afternoon A. Bartstra approached me during the rest period to tell me that Jamadji had instructed Joustra to ask me to head the family groups that would settle in Makassar. You never know what awaits you. It wasn’t a month ago that he subjected me to such inhuman treatment and now he wants me to take another position of trust. I told Annie that I wasn’t going to worry about it and that I would wait for Joustra to approach me. In the meantime I would have plenty of time to think it over.
Today we heard airplane engines in the West and a Jap plane came over. Where are the allies?
Voskuil: Monday, 3 September 1945. We were informed that all hospital patients would be taken to Makassar. We still don’t know who would be first to leave. At 11 AM another Jap nurse arrived in a car and 3 patients went with him. A while later the car returned and Daantje plus 3 more patients left with him. Two of them had beriberi and needed to be carried into the car. They were Babs van Lijf and Mrs. de Rijk.
In the afternoon Jamadji summoned Mobach to the office. He complimented her on the report she wrote about the education program in the camp but she neglected to include the following items:
1. Although we lived in captivity, the Japs had seen to it that an education program was installed. Usually usurpers prefer to keep those in bondage dumb.
2. Although captors want the interned to forget their roots, Jamadji had instructed the youths to bow to the North where their fatherland was. (In truth, Japan is North of our island-OY) In the mornings the souls are clean and impressionable.
3. Clubs were organized in order to keep the young occupied after school hours.
4. To reinforce the abilities of the tutors to impart their knowledge in a school environment, Jamadji saw to it that meetings were held to accomplish this.
Mrs. Stolk and her daughter returned at 6.30 PM after a visit to Makassar. Mr. Stolk’s condition is deteriorating; he only responds with ‘yes’ or ‘no’. Mrs. Stolk had talked to the other men and they told her that a peace treaty was signed on September the 2nd at 8 AM on a battleship in Tokyo Bay. A high ranking Jap had asked her what the women in Kampili needed most. Her answer was letters from Pare-Pare, fruit, milk, and eggs.
It seems that a lively trade is conducted in Makassar between the POW’s and the natives; pieces of clothing are swapped for eggs, etc.
The Americans and the Australians are now venting their suppressed hate against the Japs because of the abuse they suffered at the hands of the Japs. It seems that hey formed a mob, which would be hard to control once women appear on the scene, Marseille said.
Valderpoort: 3 September. We were suddenly informed that all the sick, including the dysentery patients, were to be transported to Makassar today. There is a lot of rushing around to comply. It seems that the Japs are not able to prepare certain tasks within a certain timetable. Everything needs to be done right away. In the meantime Mrs. Gerth and I are assembling our pitiful belongings because we expect to move to house 5b any moment. This will probably be our last move since we are awaiting orders to leave for Makassar next.
Mrs. Stolk has been to Makassar to visit her husband who is deteriorating rapidly from the effects of beriberi. She told us about a peace treaty that was signed on the 2nd of September. This elicited a lot of cheering and this will probably speed our return to Makassar.
Voskuil: Tuesday, 4 September 1945. A great deal of emotion was caused by the arrival of lists of the POW’s who arrived alive on Java, and a second list of those that died. Two of the dead were Posthumus and Scheltema; their wives were unaware of their deaths.
A Dutch airplane flew over Kampili; they dropped pamphlets stating that medicinal supplies and other items would be dropped off tomorrow. They advised us that a committee would be ready to distribute the supplies. They also needed a drop-off square of 150 meters centered with a white cross. The reverend excitedly said that he wanted to be part of the committee. The anticipation to see a Dutch plane after more than 3 ½ years was indescribable. It flew very low, and we roared and cheered and cried. When the pamphlets were dropped behind the latrines of complex A, our joy was boundless!!
Yesterday the commandant was in a very bad mood; he went to Makassar today. We feel that, considering the present situation, he should be less arrogant toward us.
We now assume that all these moves within the camp are unnecessary, since we expect to be out of here within two weeks.
A nice 50-cm high stone wall and a good-looking entry will surround the cemetery. There will be a concrete path in the center, and each grave will also have its own fence. Who ever thought that all this would happen when our own boys were digging these graves, because the commandant refused to have the coolies do it.
This afternoon another 14 patients left for Makassar. Those that left last Sunday sent word that the treatment is very good. The commandant took these letters with him. The patients get a glass of milk every day. Their beds have springs and they get flowers.
Joustra was very busy this morning; she had to finish a report and Jamadji had offered her the use of his desk while he was gone. I was the only one who knew where Joustra was. That way she could continue working and was only interrupted by the plane and the pamphlets.
It is rumored that the Governor General Starkenborg Stachouwer, and Governors van Mook, and van der Plas had resumed their positions in Colombo (Sri Lanka). The Allies will be here in 2 weeks.
Valderpoort: 4 September. This morning A. Bartstra delivered an explicit news report that chilled me to the bone. A complete victory, but at what cost? How much blood, sweat, and tears? Yet, thank God, there is peace on earth and an end came to all the violence.
In the meantime Mrs. Posthumus and Scheltema were informed that their husbands had died in the camp in Makassar. The first one had died in May, how insensitive to let her know only now that her husband was dead. A complete list of those men that were sent to Java, and those that had died has been posted.
This morning I went to the office to talk about the birth and death certificates. Mrs. Joustra had asked for them some time ago, and when they were in her possession they burned during the fire July 17.
We suddenly heard the sound of airplane engines; we flew outside and saw a plane with the red, white, and blue decal on its fuselage. It came right over us, three times; we waved, cheered, and danced whenever it came over. Again and again it roared over the grass field with the letters PW. They also flew over the jungle camp at tree top level. There was wild exhilaration with tears and goose flesh, but some of the children still showed fear. The plane dropped orange pamphlets letting us know that we should have an area available that should be marked by a white cross, so they could drop food and other items tomorrow. They proposed that a group of people be assigned to take care of the picking up and distribution of the drop. Then, to avoid any injuries, we should stay clear of the drop site.
After all those years of a fearful existence and isolation from everything that was dear to us, including our fatherland, this fly- over of a Dutch plane was a tremendous event. We are thankful to have witnessed this. The Dutch flag over a people in victory and not in chains. Daantje was in a state of confusion and Jamadji was in Makassar, so that even the most fearful could cheer and dance. The Japs have no hold on us anymore, they don’t need to be feared and we don’t have to bow down either way, thank God.
While the plane flew over, Daantje stood nervously in the same place where I stood a month ago to await my execution at 4 PM. Now the roles are reversed.
This afternoon Jamadji summoned me to ask me if I was willing to accompany 20 ladies to Makassar to prepare a compound for 212 families for the men in Pare-Pare whose wives and children are in Kampili. He had discussed these plans in Makassar and we would be free while the Japanese would help us any way they could with food and furniture distribution. A. Bartstra had already informed me so that I knew what to say. Jamadji seemed to know that Joustra hadn’t briefed me in any way. When she wanted to join us during our discussion she was twice told to leave.
I remained distant from Jamadji and asked about specifics in Makassar, I finally told him that I would be willing to take the job for the sake of the camp members.
Then I put a list together of 20 ladies and included Mrs. Gerth. We can probably leave tomorrow. Many are glad that I am involved in camp matters again, and others feel that I should stay. The French saying ‘partir, c’est mourir un peu’ is becoming reality now. But after all, we’ll meet again in Makassar, because we cannot go any further.
All the while we are being smothered with gifts. The Japs cannot do enough for us: silk underwear, handkerchiefs, Life Buoy soap, it doesn’t stop. And yet there is resentment that they allowed us to live in extreme poverty for so long.
Voskuil: Wednesday, 5 September 1945. We rarely had a more exciting morning than the one we had today. To start out, we expected airplanes that would drop articles in our camp. At 9.45 AM three of them circled a few times very low and disappeared, and then…. The commandant called out to Joustra that he didn’t think they would drop anything and that the planes had returned to Makassar. Joustra responded that she thought that they were looking the areas over and that they would return later. The commandant was right: one returned but didn’t drop anything, even although the white cross on the field was an invitation. The commandant showed an “I told you so” grin.
In between there was the commotion when the 24 ladies left for Makassar to join their husbands from Pare. They loaded their belongings on a truck and left with Valderpoort as their leader. Those ladies will supervise the coolies that will be assigned to clean the residences for the future families. Each was given 245 guilders in Japanese currency, which isn’t worth anything, a dress, a pair of Keds, and a flannel or silk set of underwear. Earlier the commandant had made some wine available for the last days in the camp. He had given Wijnands the wine and some cake; she was supposed to give it to those who were leaving,.
This morning 40 people left, among them was Mrs. Stolk and her daughter, they would probably be allowed to take care of their husband and father.
At first the group was to leave after lunch, but then the commandant decided that they should leave at 11 AM. The luggage was taken to the post at the appointed time…. At 11.30 AM the commandant announced a new departure time because the departing women were supposed to assemble at the club for wine and cake, they were not to eat here. They then hurried to the club. In the meantime the plane returned and everyone ran to the field; this caused some more commotion. Finally the time had come that they took their places on top of their belongings on top of the truck and they took off towards freedom. The women cheered, and some shed a tear.
Stolk: Finally, at last the great mystery was solved! For years I had tried to remember my departure from Kampili towards a new freedom in Makassar. But oddly enough I couldn’t find anyone who could corroborate my story, which made me wonder if I had dreamt it.
But now the pieces of my memory are beginning to fit together to make everything real. I remember going to Makassar with a group of women to clean houses. This wasn’t right, because the coolies were supposed to do that. We arrived at a beautiful house on the Strand Way where we had to wait for further orders.
In the meantime we amused ourselves by looking the house over. For years we lived in bamboo barracks with a smooth clay floor, and slept on bamboo beds without a mattress, but a woven mat, and a low stool to sit on. The suitcase, with a cloth over it, served as a table.
It was therefore not surprising that we acted like a primitive people who had just come out of the jungle into a brick house. We cheered when we turned a switch and the light came on, and when we turned the tap clear water came out, and going to the bathroom we could flush instead of having to carry water from the well to flush. But we screamed when we noticed a full length mirror and we saw ourselves for the first time. For years we saw ourselves in a compact mirror or a piece of a larger mirror. We thronged in front of the mirror to catch a glimpse of ourselves.
I don’t remember what our further instructions were, just that my mother and I could go to the hospital where we could spend the night….
Voskuil: The women are dismayed that there is no mail forthcoming from Pare. But the connection seems to be bad; bridges and parts of the roads were blown up, etc.
The commandant insists that the reports about life in the camp must be written so that the Japanese will be cast in a favorable light. Marseille was forced to include in his report that no military installations were around our camp during the bombing raids of the Allied Forces. Marseille cynically reported that there were not enough sponges to clean everything.
We now get either 1 buffalo and one pig, or two buffaloes a day. The meat processors are busy. A bit later we are given 2 mugs of sugar, it won’t stop.
In the afternoon during our rest period there suddenly is a lot of excitement. They cheer that 2 Americans had arrived. I ran to the Post and saw our people, Mr. Burger and Mr. Boterhoven from Pare. They arrived with letters and messages, and told us that 3 doctors would come too, Goedbloed, Goslinga, and Berg. But that was erroneous since all the sick are in Makassar now. The two men looked skinny and old before their time. The nuns were called to prepare some food for the men and the commandant from Pare who had come with the men.
They went to the bridge room in the club where the women overwhelmed them with questions about the men in Pare. They told us that the last months had been horrible. After Tarakan fell to the Allies they were trucked in a closed off vehicle to Bolong via Balokan, where they were subjected to bombs, cudgels, and hunger while living in a canyon. At one time they ate all of a water buffalo, including the skin. They lived off snakes, rats, and mice, and searched for greens wherever they could find any. Many died and they wondered if they would ever survive…. Then freedom came, and at the end of August they were taken to the military barracks in Pare. They still are amazed that they are alive.
Lindeboom: People left in groups and our camp became empty, which resulted in more food for us. We were free and for the first time others could enter our camp to talk and trade with us. Not a bad word was mentioned and we laughingly shared our experiences of the last few years. I even talked to a man and asked him if he wanted to sell his beautifully hand made Makassar dagger. I had nothing to trade, but I wanted a welcome gift for my father very much. I was convinced that he was still alive. Suddenly I had an idea and offered the man my pants. He accepted and I returned home in my underpants but I was the proud owner of a beautiful Makassar dagger.
My mother reprimanded me mildly and asked me how I was supposed to go to Makassar. When she saw the tears in my eyes she comforted me by saying that I had another pair of pants in my bag.
This dagger has now been placed on the mantle in my house, because when my dad died the dagger was returned to me.
Voskuil: Thursday, 6 September 1945. The ladies who left for Makassar this morning returned in the evening. We never thought we’d see them again. They had spent all day in a house that used to belong to Mr. Prive, but since they freed the POW’s it was thought best to return the women to Kampili. There were no houses available for them anyway.
While they left in 3 trucks there was only 1 available for the return trip. The driver balked and thus 3 ladies arrived with all the luggage first. All of the women arrived by midnight. They told us that all their medical supplies and luggage were pitched out, and that the airplane that flew over the camp 2 days ago crashed about 100 km from Makassar.
This morning 2 Chinese men arrived at the fence in a car. The commandant went to meet them, they bowed and smiled. The commandant called on me to get 3 Chinese ladies from the jungle camp. When I returned with the women the Chinese men had joined the commandant in the front hall of the Post. They greeted the ladies and they all took off. However, they were not the only ones; about 100 more, which had houses and families in Makassar, left that day at noon. They had to pick up Jap currency, their food and luggage, and off they went. It resembles an avalanche.
It is rumored that the allied transfer will take place on the 12th of September and that all Europeans should be out of the camps by then.
Our rest period was interrupted by the most exciting event one can imagine. An Australian plane passed several times over our camp at a very low altitude and dropped something by complex B, barrack 7. Joustra and a nun went to investigate and returned with a blue bag. She told everyone that it contained mail, and entered the clubhouse. But then she disappeared and entered the Post from the rear where the commandant awaited her. He was white as a sheet. The woman realized where she was and ran to the Post where another long bag attached to a parachute had been delivered. Joustra then asked us to meet her at the clubhouse where she would unpack everything in our presence. When she started to unpack the bag we were disappointed. No mail, but several items that looked to be bandages. Anyway, the large bag was opened and revealed cans with jam, rabbit, soup, tobacco, Capstan cigarettes, cigarette paper, chewing gum, 3 signal mirrors, 2 pairs of underpants, 2 shirts, and towels. Most of the cans had been smashed since the parachute failed to open. Everything was wrapped in newspaper, and there were several magazines that contained bulletins. One of them headlined that the Allies were preparing to go to Tokyo, and the other that Allied ships were in Singapore again. Then there was a letter from the Commandant of Australian Services. Joustra read it to us. We could expect them to come by every day at the same time, their time at 11.40 AM. They wanted to know what we needed and would drop these articles. Could we send them Morse signals with the mirrors they dropped? What we thought were bandages were signaling tapes. If two tapes would be placed in the form of a T it would indicate that there were 100 people. Since they dropped only 5 of them we could only indicate a total of 200 persons, while we were a group of almost 1,500, not including those that had left already. Could we send a message via radio on wavelength 64.64 about our needs, they would try to catch it. We haven’t had a radio for 3 ½ years. Never mind all that, we were exhilarated. Finally, finally something like this came by air.
Lists were typed up of all the articles that were dropped and they were posted in both camps and the dysentery barrack. In the evening we held a party with whiskey, sugar, and roasted cassava root. Joustra was the spokesman for the commandant, who disappeared before the speech was delivered.
She started as usual with: “Listen up, people!” She then continued to tell us that Jamadji wanted to be remembered for the good things he had done during the 2-½ years that he was our commandant, and to forgive him for the less pleasant ordeals that he had subjected us to. After all, he always wanted the best for us and didn’t hold a grudge against anyone. He hoped that we would like the presentation he had planned for us tonight. Instead of the sweet wine he wanted to serve, all he could get was some bad whiskey. Hopefully we would accept the whiskey as a gift that came from his heart. The response was a ‘hip, hip, hooray’ and ‘long shall he live’, but he was nowhere to be seen.
At 10 PM we went back to the barracks. This time no chairs or lamps were pilfered, because they would be taken back a day later anyway. We received a loaf of bread for 10 people and a bottle of whiskey for 4.
We feel that peace is tiring; we have been exhausted since peace came!! When we were in bed and suffering, more or less, from the effects of the whiskey, we heard Bellemee sigh: “This is the last trick the commandant played on us.” We all started to laugh.
Seth Paul: 6 September. A Mitchell passed at low altitude and dropped food supplies with parachutes. A letter written in English was in one of the bags that came down. It said that the planes would fly over every day at 11 AM and drop off the most necessary articles. The people must line up in rows of 50. Each row would be identified by pieces of tape that must be put down in the form of the letter T. Signal mirrors were included in the dropped bags, and the boys who knew how to send Morse code messages needed to pause in between each word. If we had access to a transmitter we could find our benefactors at a wavelength of 44.95. Keep your chins up. Best wishes from the Australian Air Force.
The white pieces of cloth that were included to make the T’s were enough for 650 people. We now understood why we were bombed. The Allies thought that 18 barracks were too many for 350 persons and assumed that Japanese forces were residing with us. This became evident when those 4 allied squadrons were ordered to bomb us on the 17th of July.
Voskuil: Friday, 7 September 1945. The nuns and the pastor were supposed to leave this morning. All their belongings had been put on the field, the busses had come, all the nuns and the pastor were there, good byes were said, they were ready to board the busses; then comes the announcement that there’s going to be a delay, because the houses were not ready yet. But the luggage can stay on the field for the time being.
Everyone slinks away and the busses move to the fence. At noon a car drives up with Dieudonne, Ketel, and Niels Schuren from the POW camp. The Jap commandant of their camp was with them; he joined Jamadji and both of them go into the dining room and close the door.
In the meantime 3 airplanes fly over, one Dutch, and two Australians. They were reckless and moved over roofs and at tree top level; kids screamed in fear, and adults held their breath. Then Dieudonne told us to change the signals on the ground from crosses to stripes, which meant medical supplies. Two stripes would mean clothing. Schuddebeurs and I hurried to make the change. A while later a plane flew so low that it seemed that we would be sucked up in its wake. It seemed to signal that it had understood our message. But they signaled with the mirrors that they didn’t understand us.
After we thanked them for the gifts we asked for combs, toothbrushes and tooth paste. They dropped an awful lot: almost 100 large cans with fruit, apples, and milk. Two parachutes were dropped, just like yesterday; this time they opened in time, and in the evening everything was distributed: chocolate, apples, prunes, raisins. Then the commandant gave each of us one oatmeal can full of white sugar. A while later a call went out in the barrack: “Who has not had any chocolate? Who wants more jenever, because I can’t finish what I have.”
Yesterday a German nun, Rosa Ilger, came from Makassar with a list that indicated that the nuns of the Salvation Army could go to Makassar.
Seth Paul: 7 September. Two Mitchells and a Catalina seaplane came over. The Mitchell dropped two parachutes, and the Catalina dropped food supplies like dried fruit, beef extract, and bandages. But we could do without bandages because we had plenty of those. We removed the gauze tapes from the incendiary bombs. We first dismantled the bombs, then removed the gauze from the sticky napalm in the tube, and put it in the sun to dry. The napalm evaporated quickly and left the gauze white as snow.
The first parachutes failed to open and the load scattered all over the place. I can remember seeing a few ladies picking up tubes eagerly and squeezing the contents in their mouths, thinking that it was toothpaste. However, they were greatly disappointed when the paste proved to be shaving foam. The Allies had again missed the boat, just like they did when they bombed us.
Voskuil: Saturday, 8 September 1945. Today the remaining sick and 50 women, who have husbands in Pare, are leaving for Makassar under the leadership of Valderpoort. The nun’s departure has been delayed. We had already counted on another delay, but everything went as planned. There were 12 trucks for the ladies and their luggage, 2 trucks returned empty. The men from the POW camp: Dieudonne, Ketel, Koekelkoren, Dr. Buning, an Australian, and an American witnessed the departure of the first few trucks. They had come with a truck bringing baskets full of eggs, fruit, coffee, and a RADIO, which was put to use right away by the pastor. Alas, it didn’t work because one of the tubes had broken. In the meantime another plane flew over several times at 11.30 AM and dropped medical supplies.
The parting of those who left was unreal; the commandant ran around like a hotel manager who takes care of the last details before his guests leave. The Japs, who were to guard the trucks during the trip to Makassar, took everything matter of fact.
Ketel spoke to us this evening. He said that no one needed to worry about those already in Makassar. They were housed in a camp that was called “Camp of Peace”. Jamadji Heisu would be responsible for the camp and we had to obey his regulations. Mrs. Joustra would be our leader.
Then they discussed several items with Jamadji and the commandant of the POW camp. Koekelkoren went to the club to talk to the women who overwhelmed him with questions about their husbands. Some of the news was sad.
Tomorrow another 100 women and children will leave and in a few days Kampili will be no more or so it seems.
Jamadji left for Makassar in the afternoon and when he returned he called on Joustra and Bartstra from 1 AM to 3 PM. Then follows the order that nobody is going to go to Makassar for the time being, because nothing has been arranged. The commandant himself cooked for those who had left Saturday, because he felt sorry for them.
Seth Paul: On the 8th of September a Mitchell dropped two parachutes. Two letters were included but I don’t know the contents of those letters.
Voskuil: Sunday, 9 September 1945. Four airplanes noisily flew over and dropped more blankets and medical supplies. Dieudonne and Ketel witnessed the anguish of the small fry, and also of some of the adults, and signaled to the planes to make future drops in Makassar. The goods will then be transported to Kampili. This request was honored.
Seth Paul: On the 9th of September a Mitchell dropped 10 parcels with blankets followed by two parachutes at 10.30 AM. Because we were cold, in the tropics? It’s incredible! At 11.15 another 4 Mitchells, with the markings KOG and KOX, passed over and dropped blankets again. The KOG plane dropped two parachutes; the loads contained condensed milk and cocoa powder. Many of the parachutes didn’t deploy and a lot of articles were lost when they contacted the ground.
Olly van Driest-Young. Several blankets had messages written on them like: “Will you marry me?” followed by the address of the soldier who wrote it.
Voskuil: Monday, 10 September 1945. One plane passed over, and that was all.
The commandant now has his quarters outside the fence, but remains in charge of the camp.
Everybody receives cigarette packs to trade in Makassar.
Tuesday, 11 September 1945. No one will be allowed to go to Makassar today, not even for a visit.
Wednesday, 12 September 1945. Ketel and Goedbloed came to get their wives. It doesn’t seem to matter whether they are needed or not. Ketel carries a list of wives of government personnel and several officers. The women need to be ready to leave within an hour. Several of them didn’t want to go but Ketel told Joustra to force them leave. Joustra told him that she had always tried to give the women as much freedom as she could during the Jap occupation and that she wasn’t about to change that. They would only go if they wanted to. Her attitude was calm and determined. Ketel insisted that his wife come with him, even although she cannot be missed as head of her department. The two of them had quite an argument when Jamadji entered and calmly told Ketel not to tire Joustra out. Ketel then admitted that Joustra looked tired, but she declared that she wasn’t tired at all.
Thursday, 13 September 1945. Gibsen comes for an inspection. He walks with difficulty and doesn’t get around much. He expressed his admiration about the camp to Darleen Deibler. He said that he wouldn’t compliment a Jap, but he had to admit that Jamadji did the best he could.
Aviators visited Kampili and letters could be given to them to be sent to Java and Holland. Many were so excited that everyone took advantage of this occasion. Later in the day an airplane dropped one parachute near Complex B, one in the meadow, and one in front of the Post. Apparently the pilot feels that all this is taking too long and drops 9 parachutes at the same time. All of them opened properly, more chocolate, fruit, magazines, etc.
Seth Paul: 13 September. We swam in the canal in front of the camp, when the airplanes appeared. One airplane, a B-29, opened its bomb bay and dropped 12 parachutes. The contents were packed in large tubes that acted like a spring on landing; it came down with a thud. Apparently a new way to prevent damage to the contents.
These days we’ve been playing soccer in costume. It was very entertaining but we missed Freddy Paul, our rear guard, very much. (Voskuil claimed that the game was played on the 31st of August.-TS)
On the 14th of September a Mitchell flew very low over the
camp followed by a Liberator, that passed over our camp several times and once
over the jungle camp. On the 18th of September a Liberator appeared in the sky,
and on the 19th
a Liberator made a flight over the airfield behind us. Until now the Mitchell’s that flew over our camp carried the markings KOX, KON, KOG, and KOB.
PARE -PARE/ Welleman: 9/4/45. Yesterday and today a Dutch airplane circled over Pare. Pamphlets were dropped which read that they would return tomorrow with medical supplies and other articles. There was excitement and joy everywhere. Immediately thereafter there was a downer. A list of the dead in Kampili from the beginning of the internment to August 1945 was delivered. Many breathed a sigh of relief, but Hoogeveen, Logeman, and Dimonti had a sad day.
The Jap is smothering us with all kinds of things: pants, under shirts, a handkerchief, new mosquito netting, toothbrush, toothpaste, cups and saucers, plates, and I believe there is even more coming. Shoes too.
We hear that we shall leave for Kampili before the 15th of September, first the husbands, then the bachelors.
Oh well, we’ll see.
MAKASSAR/Booy: 9/1/45. Yesterday evening’s performance was a success except for the monologue parts. The person who was supposed to be the emcee had to be removed because he was drunk. No one noticed it. At the end of the show patriotic songs were sung. Four Japs attended the show: the Army Sutadjo, a translator, and 2 officers. It was a good thing that they didn’t understand Dutch.
The Japs promise a lot but don’t do much. The captain read them the riot act this morning.
We are assembling a nice little band, a piano, 2 saxophones, 3 guitars, 1 trumpet, 1 bass, and a drum. The men do a good job; one Englishman from the Muna group is a true natural when it comes to playing the trumpet.
Sunday, 2 September 1945. Today an official decision will be made concerning Japan’s future. Holland’s representative will be Admiral Helfrich; he arrived in Yokohama yesterday. I belief that the Allies never realized how horribly we were treated by the Japs. Now that the former POW’s have started to repatriate in rags, hungry, and ill, the Ally’s anger increases, according to the radio. We turned on the volume of our radio very loud. Outside the wall guards are posted about 15 meter away, but none of them dare to come up in the dark. The captain has made an official request for a radio, but so far there hasn’t been a response.
Lord Louis Mountbatten sent a message to all the POW’s in these regions that he would send help as soon as possible. However, we must understand that many camps are far away, but we should be on our way home within a few weeks. The surrender of Singapore will be signed on the 4th; on the 6th the same will be done for New Guinea, the Solomon Islands, and several other island groups. Celebes and Java were never mentioned. Maybe our own people will set us free.
A Dutch airplane has passed low over Makassar for three days. The letters POW were painted in white on the roofs of our buildings. The plane hasn’t passed over our new residence yet.
This morning the command of the camp was changed officially to Major Gibsen. The new Sutadjo, captain Sio, held a speech in which he informed us that his wife and two children had been killed during a bombardment, and that his old mother, who lost her sight during a bombardment, was the only one who would wait for him. He asked for our cooperation. We enjoy music and singing every night, we can stand it for a few more weeks.
9/4/45. There is a lot going on in our semi free lives. Yesterday evening we heard over the radio that Japan will liberate all prisoners of war and will see to it that they’ll arrive safely at the point of demarcation. At first we didn’t understand the message and I decided to fetch the captain. By candlelight all news items were written down and we realized that we were already where we were supposed to be, and all we had to do is to wait for our friends to show up.
The news was terrific: the formal surrender of Japan where the emperor himself will be subject to Mac Arthur, 1,500 just released POW’s stood on the deck. The flag that flew on the White House lawn on December 7, 1941 graced the mast of the Missouri. After the signing of the Peace treaty President Truman announced via radio from the White House that the Americans will never forget Pearl Harbor, and the Japs will never forget the battle ship Missouri.
At 11 PM someone from the kitchen warned us that the commandant of the guard had been listening for 15 minutes. The captain decided that we should listen to the radio openly and we did. Yesterday during the evening the radio was placed on a table under a tree and we listened while enjoying a glass of brandy, vermouth, port wine, and beer. These drinks had been supplied that afternoon. It gets better and better, yesterday we received an extra helping of bananas, mangoes, nangka, (a tropical fruit-OY) 3 bars of chocolate, 21 packs of cigarettes of 3 different brands, more than 1 kg of sugar per person, and 2 buffaloes are butchered on a daily basis.
Yesterday afternoon I was taking a nap to recoup some sleep of the night before, when I woke up because a plane went right over our camp. It really startled me and I thought of everything except peace. Everybody ran outside and, sure enough, he returned 5 times. We cheered and jumped up and down. Our three flags were shown on the roofs. It appeared to be an Aussie. We all felt good about the fact that they now know where we are, and that they would probably start dropping some supplies. We really don’t need very much. Our demeanor improves every day, not only because of the improved food, but also because our minds are truly free. Our fear of being beaten is all but gone.
Yesterday morning Yosh had the unbelievable audacity to swear at and threaten Dr. Bakker. About 10 men calmly approached them and if Yosh had dared to touch Dr. Bakker there would have been a lynching party. The captain took Yosh to the Japanese commandant and made an official request that Yosh, Baby face, the Big Seaman, and Kakoi be removed from the premises. Their safety could not be guaranteed in our camp anymore.
We heard from Kampili that transgressions also were met with beatings, but not as numerous as those that we had to put up with.
It is getting to be really cozy in the camp: so now and then flowers are delivered, and yesterday lounges were delivered, 1 per 25 men. At 11 AM we now also get coffee and hot chocolate.
9/6/45. The plane that dropped pamphlets two days ago mentioned that supplies would be dropped the following day, which would have been yesterday. At 11.30 AM a plane dropped two bags in the camp which contained samples, and one parcel on the Queen’s Square which had been marked with a white cross in the center, as requested by the flight crews. The samples consisted of milk, Capstan cigarettes and tobacco, old magazines, a towel, and several cans. There were also questionnaires for the camp leaders such as how many men there were, and what articles were needed most. They also requested that we set up radio contact with the plane. One of the bags contained a signal mirror. We asked the Japs for a radio transmitter and this morning we could communicate with our benefactors. They arrived at 1.30 PM. We heard the two planes talking back and forth. When one of them flew over the rooftops of our camp we could hear him say: “That’s the one, George!” A signal lamp directed us to listen to W/T and the connection was made. The number of our men was given as well as the number of those who were sick, also what kind of medications were needed.
Major Gibsen had put a telegram together and wanted to relay the names of all the officers. But the receiver stressed that he wanted a list of the needed supplies and was not interested in the names of the officers. They’ll be back tomorrow. A long bag was dropped but the parachute didn’t open and fell through the roof of the corridor with a bang, right in front of the room where the transmitter was located. It really startled us.
According to the instructions of Mac Arthur the camp leadership was officially taken over by Major Gibsen. The Japs moved and we will be assigned to civilian European houses in a few days. The married men may move outside with their families. We may have visitors twice a day.
It doesn’t seem that the native people have any idea of what’s going on. A Malaysian news paper, under an editor named Ratulagi, is urging the native population to resist the Allied Forces. He shall have to pay dearly for this.
We now can officially have radios and we have started a news service. I proposed a plan to the captain to translate all news items in Malay and hand out the information to our native visitors. A counter propaganda measure explaining our position might not be a bad idea. Further exploration of this plan would probably take place tomorrow.
The patients from Kampili have been brought to the “Stella Maris” hospital on the Strand Way. Since our captain has access to a vehicle, he’s been driving back and forth between the two camps to help out wherever he can. There are still 70 dysentery cases in Kampili.
The days are flying by; my time is taken up with all kinds of projects. I don’t have a specific job, but my main function is to be a go-between in many cases, because I know so many people and what they’re like.
I could tell you more but I’ve got to stop. I do want you to know that we installed our own police force since the Japs don’t do that anymore.
Stolk: 5 September. After the other ladies had been taken back to Kampili from the house on the Strand Way, my mother and I were housed in the “Stella Maris” hospital, and we started a ‘free’ life in Makassar. Being ‘free’ is only relative; we found that out the next day.
We had been assigned to our beds and after breakfast we helped to do some cleaning, like mopping the floors in the hallway. Then we impatiently waited for Dieudonne who was supposed to take us to the military hospital in his car. However, this took too long and my mother decided to start walking. Our walk didn’t last very long because we were picked up by a car with a Jap at the wheel. We had to get in and were admonished that we were not to walk by ourselves. We were delivered to the Peace Camp. We didn’t realize that we were very conspicuous, being the first European women to walk in the streets, especially since the military men had not been allowed to walk free yet. In the future we had better wait for a car.
When we arrived at the hospital Adri, my youngest brother who had been taken to Pare-Pare when he was 15, met us. He was in one of the first transports so that he could see his father.
Since much was going on to arrange housing, and our situation became rather complicated, we were assigned a residence at 24 Tromplaan, a street adjacent to the hospital. After we had visited my father, who was in serious condition, Adri and I decided to take a look at our new residence. It was rather small and it had a patio in front of the house. We entered, but when we came to the bedrooms we were startled by voices. We peered inside and saw two fat Japs sitting on a bed. Their upper torsos were bare. We ran back outside; the Japanese had not vacated the house yet.
Booy: 9/9/45.For the last few days I have not had any time to write in my diary. Our situation changes by the day, 125 ladies from Kampili have been brought to the hospital “Stella Maris”, and 80 men were transported from Pare to a school about one block from the hospital.
During the last two days the captain made two trips to Kampili, and at the same time a truck with food supplies was sent there. Two days ago we signaled a B-25 that 1,600 women and children were housed in Kampili and they were in dire need of food. The signal was transmitted at 1.30 PM and at 4 PM a large Dutch sea plane dropped 50 cans with prunes, and other fruit, flour, chocolate, etc., etc. Half an hour later the kids ran around with chocolate faces.
At 9 PM yesterday evening we had direct contact with Balikpapan. We let them know that the natives here were holding anti European demonstrations, and we were promised reinforcements right away. If necessary they would send 10 troop transport planes to aid us. However, the captain requested that the Allied Head Quarters would instruct the remaining Japanese forces to stop further demonstrations by Dr. Ratulagi and arrest him.
This information apparently alarmed the Aussies because at 8 AM they appeared over the city and didn’t leave until 2 PM.
Large packages were dropped that contained salt and vitamin tablets, 6 small barrels filled with flour, a package with yeast, 6 cases of milk, and cigarettes. We immediately sent a lot to the “Stella Maris” hospital.
It seems that of the three camps on Southeast Celebes we were the one that fared the best. The other two would have done better if they hadn’t been bombed. The members of the Pare camp had to move to Makale into the woods, where they had virtually no food. As a result many of them died.
Our news bureau is in full swing; all news items are typed in 3 languages and placed on bulletin boards in the camp, and given to visitors for distribution outside our camp. All visitors are allowed to come inside the camp, they leave wiser than when they entered.
Yesterday evening 3 Americans went home with a young Indo man named Bax. They got drunk and started fighting. Singleton, better known as the “Tom Cat”, was badly hurt and came home telling us that he was beaten up by natives and 2,000 of them were on their way to the camp. Immediately the alarm was sounded; it was 3 AM and everyone walked around with a metal bedpost in his or her hands to await whatever was coming our way. The only ones who came were the 3 other fighters who told us the truth. We all heaved a sigh of relief and the 4 were disciplined and locked up. Of course Tommy Moore was one of them, I knew that he went out every night, but it was none of my business.
Stolk: When the Japs had left the house that we were to occupy Adri and I moved in. My mother stayed with my father in his hospital room. Kees, my eldest brother, remained in the military hospital for the time being, so Adri and I stayed alone. We went to our former residence on the General van Daalen Road to see if we could find some items that had belonged to us. But there was nothing there; the whole house had been emptied. We heard later that many of the furnishings were shipped to Japan. The only thing we found was a crumpled negative of a photo that was taken some time ago near the airfield on Bandung. Too bad that we couldn’t find anything that belonged to us.
Several weeks later we found a copper smoking set that was ours. The neighbors across the street had it in their house. The set existed of a copper stand with a tray; on the tray were a jar for tobacco, ashtray, a match container, etc. We recognized it because it stood crooked. The people who had it in their possession were nice enough to return it to us. Thus we still had something that linked us to our past. But this happened quite a bit later.
We needed to furnish the house somehow. Adri started the process. You could tell that he had learned to be self-sufficient during the past few years. The house next to us had a refrigerator, and in no time it stood in our dining room. We enjoyed using it for we had quite a few visitors and would save up all the leftovers after their visits.
But the oddest experience I had was when a cart rode into our front yard. Adri and a friend had picked up a piano. I had always wanted one and now, when we had nothing, we suddenly had a piano! I felt very rich. No one ever came to claim it.
Booy: 9/11/45. A lot of changes are in the wind. The sick are supposed to stay here, but the healthy men were to return to our first camp. The native policemen had lived there and now it stands empty. Yesterday morning all commandants, the chief-cook, and I inspected the premises. It was dirty and unkempt. The most objectionable point was that the sewers were filled to overflowing and all the drains had been plugged up. Of course there were many other problems, but those could be easily corrected. The Japs promised to send 500 coolies to take care of the sewers and we would send technical personnel to give assistance. However, when we arrived at 2 PM there were only 20 Japs sweeping the area. So we returned to the hospital.
We have 2 limousines and a truck for the use of the camp. The Japs don’t drive anymore.
Major Gibsen has lived outside the camp for a while. With his inflated ego he had demanded to live in the house of the former governor, but he was soon discouraged. His staff consists of 25 men. The parcels that first were dropped on King’s Square will now be dropped on a small open space in front of the major’s house.
Our captain is not our commandant anymore; Lt. Den Haan, a government official, replaced him. The captain now oversees matters that concern the women and the civilian men who came from Pare-Pare. Many ladies are housed on the Bessie Way. Most of the women are supposed to be the wives of the civilian men, but the couples don’t match.
Celebes and many other islands have been officially surrendered. Lieutenant General Blainey on Morotai told the Japs after the surrender ceremony that he didn’t consider them worthy of being an honorable and worthy opponent. Their past unspeakable cruelties made that impossible. He would be fair in his judgments, but he would issue very severe sentences, and all his orders should be followed to the letter. There was more but that was the most poignant part.
They need to come soon, because this situation is unreal. Hundreds of blankets have been dropped, but these are mostly for the people in Kampili because they are still sleeping on the ground.
Stolk: We visited my father regularly; he was right when he said that the medical supplies would be too late for him. He deteriorated rapidly and there was little hope for his survival. After the experiences during my first visit I refused to use the main entrance to see my dad. I soon discovered that his room was adjacent to a small road, and the hospital room was separated from the road by a small lawn and a low stone fence. So I climbed out the window crossed the lawn and climbed the fence. I found this route faster and more convenient than having to go all the way to the main entrance.
Another room that was next to a dentist occupied my dad’s named Voorzanger. I visited him a few times to have a few molars extracted. Of course this happened some time later, but then I heard that he and an assistant had watched me cross the lawn and climb the wall quite often, I was unaware that I was being watched. These incidents caused me to be invited by the dentist’s aide to the first dance that was held at the local club.
Booy: 9/14/45. Time goes by. We’ve had all kinds of visitors. Three days ago a B-25 landed with an American Brigadier General, a Lt. Colonel, and 2 Australians. The next day a Catalina arrived and took 20 Americans with it. The first B-25 took 2 Australians and 8 Americans. Two days ago a few DC 3’s of the Dutch Air Force landed and took 73 men with them, all them technical personnel. I was on the list but the captain scratched my name off. I would have liked to go because there is nothing left standing on Balikpapan and I feel sorely needed there. My friend Gerritsen, with whom I spent 2 years on Watampone, is there in the position of adjutant.
It is a terrible mess here, and nothing seems to make sense but gradually things are falling in place. For instance today a few hundred people will arrive from Kampili. Almost all of the European houses are occupied. Not every family will get their own house, but families are finally reunited. I may be wrong, but I don’t think that those that are still suffering from pellagra and beriberi, and those that are malnourished, should be together at this time. The Dutch race may produce defective offspring. At least that’s my way of thinking. (There were a relatively small percentage of people who suffered from these diseases. We did need to build up our calcium reserves since we had no appreciable amounts of calcium rich foods like milk, etc. for almost 4 years. Especially the children in their growing years needed this kind of food.-OY)
The lady who sent me the vegetables was indeed the wife of a friend I knew more than 5 years ago in Bandung. The poor man was beheaded 3 days after he was captured. I heard this from Hekkelman, a colleague who was in Ambon and taken to Pare-Pare with the other men from that region more than two years ago. Yesterday the lady wrote that she still had hopes to see her husband again; she has a five-year-old daughter. It is very nice to see white children again. They had never seen electricity or sat on a chair. Everything was new for them.
Yesterday I met the wife of Dr. Breslau, also from Watampone. Most of the women don’t look worse for the wear.
Two Australian officers are preparing for their arrival; it is expected that they will land on the 17th.
The Dutch pilots tell us that things are far from normal in Holland; people are despondent and have no will to carry on. They also told us that peace had not been expected so soon, they didn’t think that it would come before 1946 and felt that it would have been more likely that it would have come in 1947. Maybe they are exaggerating.
This afternoon another Catalina landed, there were a lot of ladies on board. The B-25’s dropped new uniforms for all of us: shirts and slacks. My shirt has 4 hues of green but it doesn’t look bad. Maybe we’ll get socks and pants today.
Every day more items are dropped but I haven’t seen anything yet. Half of it goes to the major and his staff of 30 men, and the rest probably goes to the ladies. There is no one who keeps track. We did notice that they smoke Capstans all day long, and they have cans of supplies crammed under their beds, and each of them owns 2 sets of uniforms. But if you complain about this you’re a whiner, and that I am not.
Voskuil: Sunday, 16 September 1945. The pilot who had dropped the supplies so recklessly last Friday visited the hospital “Stella Maris”. His name is Reinderts, a giant of a man. We have forgotten what men like these look like, and we stare at him as if he is unreal. He laughed when we told him that he had scared us and asked us why. After all, he dropped these items on the same place. I asked him if he had seen us. He good-naturedly answered that he could have touched our hands. He thought that Kampili looked dirty from the air.
Yesterday a group of people from the Netherlands Indies Civil Administration came to the hospital. They would see to it that we could reach those family members that we had lost contact with during the war. We were the first Dutch women in the Indies they had spoken to, and they were full of sympathy.
Booy: 9/18/45. This morning I met a man named Kroon; an Ambonese girl and her father had hid this man for 3 ½ years. Even the next door neighbor didn’t know about him. His face is totally white; it is just as if he is transparent. Airplanes every day, most of them are Dutch. This afternoon almost all Americans will leave, maybe 3 or 5 will stay behind. Within five days they’ll be in San Francisco.
We’ve been waiting for 2 Australian cruisers, but their arrival has been delayed.
We may go for a walk in the afternoons only, but nobody seems to be home in the evening.
In about 20 minutes a truck will take off for Kampili, I shall try to hitch a ride. Yesterday 2 Dutch officers of the Netherlands Indies Civil Administration arrived.
Stolk: My father died on the 18th of September. He could not be saved by the now plentiful medications. The doctor who attended him told us that, if he had survived he most likely would have been handicapped, and confined to a wheel chair. My thoughts then resembled those of Jamadji when he comforted Toetie at the time when her father died; he is out of his misery. My father was the kind of man who would not have adjusted to a handicapped life, and after all his suffering I am relieved that he’s left all that behind. Of course we were sad, but we mourned for ourselves… because we were left alone, while so many had been reunited at this time. He was interred the following day with military honors. It didn’t do him any good. We had to accept the fact that all this could have been prevented if those around him had listened to him. But it doesn’t do any good to hold a grudge…. Life goes on.
Mr. Hofker made a beautiful pastel drawing of the grave with flowers. My mother had wanted to give him something for the sketch but she had nothing to give. However, Adri had a small 30-cm ruler in his bag that had his name carved on it and the legend Pare 23-2-44. (2/23/44, the Dutch put the date before the month-OY) This was not his birth date, but the date of his arrival in Pare. My mother decided to give this ruler to Mr. Hofker as a token of our gratitude. It was a proper gift to an artist. Mrs. Hofker always saved this ruler. She had put it in the upper drawer of her bureau, and when she’d come across it, she would see my mother’s face. It touched her very much. I didn’t remember any of this, but when I visited Mrs. Hofker with Toetie in 1991, she returned it to me and told me the story behind it. It moved me very much also.
Booy: 9/24/45. Time marches on and a lot of changes have come about. Three days ago 2 Australian frigates and 2 wooden commando boats arrived. A staff of the 8th brigade and several others, totaling 250 men, came off the ships.
The English left this morning after being involved in a small battle with us. We prevented them from giving radios, mattresses, and mosquito netting away to the natives. It is a shame that our relationship with them had to end like this, but we are delighted that these scoundrels are gone.
Mr. Cooper, who was a commandant of the English in our camp before he was taken to Java two years ago, arrived yesterday by plane and will accompany his old group to Freemantle. The Aussies who just arrived seem to be an amiable lot; I made friends with several of them. Because the war was cut short nothing was organized, and it is still a mess here. No one in the Peace camp knows what he is expected to do. Major Wegner, who heads the NICA, also doesn’t seem to know what to do. We do have open communications with those on Java, and the ex POW’s there need to stay in their camps, because the natives have become very rebellious and killed several of the Europeans. As soon as the troops arrive the instigators will be dealt with. Health conditions on Java are also deplorable.
I made several visits to the Australian ships and returned loaded down with cans. Almost all the people from Kampili are here now.
Money matters are very complicated. The Aussies use Dutch currency, but the natives won’t accept it. They prefer using Japanese currency, which is practically worthless. (I remember seeing a Japnese coin floating on water-OY). Since there is no real leadership everything is difficult to do. I’m curious to see what will happen now.
9/26/45. The former governor’s offices have been taken over by the NICA and another government office. I was there the day before yesterday and it is beginning to look like the real thing. There is also a representative of the former V & W (?-OY). It is now named Technical Battalion.
Within 2 weeks most of the ex- POW’s will take on specific duties, so no rest in the mountains is allowed. Our little country cannot afford to miss 30,000 men to rebuild this large area.
The ships that were destined for Java are still in Australia because the Indonesians are striking after they heard a speech of Sukarno. Minister (?-OY) Van der Plas, who had just arrived on Java has left again, because Europeans tried to assassinate him. When he first arrived in the Indies he practically cried about the poor Indonesians, because they looked so bad. Wives and children of his fellow countrymen, who were in dire straits, were totally ignored. And the new movement continues. One of the Secretaries, Logeman, proclaimed that the Indonesian anthem should be played right after the Netherlands anthem and people should stand at attention. It seems to be traitorous. Those government people who heard the speech here said that they could understand if Sukarno had made this speech. If this is the way it’s going to be I am going to take grand leave of this country. (We were so naïve.-TS)
We are now getting salaries: 2 months worth, to start out with. The NICA people claim that this will be all, but I don’t think that they know everything. Before they left, the English had 2 increases in rank and they would be paid in full for the time they spent in captivity. I understand that our country is heavily in debt, but they shouldn’t treat their fellow countrymen this way. But like I mentioned before, everything is rather chaotic at this time, and things can’t be taken care of in one day.
Voskuil: Wednesday, 26 September 1945. The last ones have left Kampili for Makassar. It took ten days, and Kampili is no more.
Seth Paul: Wednesday, 26 September. After 2 years, 21 weeks, and 2 days we were back in Makassar from Kampili. We spent a total of 3 years and 27 weeks in captivity. But, just for the record, what did we eat in the camp? Rice porridge in the morning, either well prepared or slightly burned, depending on whom had prepared our breakfast in a halved oil drum. If you didn’t stir the rice enough, or if the fire was too hot, a thick crust would form on the bottom of the drum. It had to be removed afterwards. Starch, cassava root, eggplant, and several kinds of native spinach supplemented our diets. It was healthy food, even although you could hardly swallow it after some time. So now and then we’d get a few cubes of meat that played hide and seek with the eggplant. Brown bread, fresh from the baker, with molten lard instead of butter was an alternate choice. If you can’t remember all this, do buy an eggplant and prepare it. With every bite you experience flashes of the camp like a video. Have you heard enough about this war? It doesn’t matter. You survived it.
And what did we learn from this period? Everything is edible, even the slop which is foods for pigs. You will never throw out any food, and you teach your children to eat everything on their plate.
“Dad, don’t complain!”
“Yes, but we didn’t have much in the camp, and that’s why…”
“Not the camp again! That was so long ago.” “That doesn’t mean that those left- overs on your plate…”
“Should we send those to the 3rd World countries, where they have nothing or little to eat? Come on, act normal.”
“You can put them in the fridge; you’ll be hungry in a little while or you can eat it tomorrow!”
“We’ll wait until tomorrow, ja, ja, it’s story time again. Can we leave the table?”
We were all equal in the camp, and our sad existence didn’t make a difference. Dolly Paul, who had no feeling in her legs, and didn’t feel the rats gnawing at her feet; her brother Freddy… and others who were victims of napalm, dysentery, or rabid dogs.
You find out that those civilized people from good families put on a front, which disappears when one cup of sugar and a bar of soap are issued each week to everyone. That slight veneer disappears with the rain, and under the pumps of the water wells. There were those that would steal a head of lettuce, that was carefully cultivated by someone else.
We also discovered that the nuns were baldheaded, and they didn’t have to fast on Friday and that a buffalo can be cut up in 1,650 small pieces to feed the 1,650 people in the camp. People go to church because of fear and uncertainty. You learn to pray for those who are ill, or wounded, or bitten by rabid dogs. You also learn that your prayers are not heard, at least those where the outcome is not the one you wished for. And why shouldn’t they? After all, this was a simple human request that didn’t involve your self. For some incomprehensible reason you realize that God discriminates. Maybe he listens to someone else, but your prayer to have the life of a young girl saved is ignored. Slowly you begin to realize that God and Fate are one and the same; there is no difference between rich and poor, believer and non-believer.
Stolk: Slowly but surely life returns to normal. We all live at the Tromp Lane. My brothers live in the garage. The house has six rooms. We occupy the rear bedroom and the dining room. Mrs. Prins and her husband take up the center bedroom and living room. Stans van Meijgaard and her husband, Ton, live in the two front rooms.
I had the rear storage room, a very small room. I furnished it to suit me. Several crates with covers, like a sofa and a table, nice pictures on the wall, a small curtain; and I finally had a place to where I could retreat to write or read.
Mr. Rook, who took care of my father, often visited. He still has not heard anything from his wife and small son, he is uncertain of what the future will bring.
John is a young man in the Navy, who often came to eat, and sometimes stayed to sleep. He eventually put up his bed in the garage with my brothers.
All the people from Kampili are here now. Toetie lived in a house catty corner from ours on the Tromp Lane.
One day an airplane from Australia landed. I met someone in uniform close to my house; he started to speak to me. Apparently he was an uncle who lived in Australia. Just before the war he had married one of my aunts. I really didn’t know him; I had seen his picture though. He told me that they had fled to Australia and they now had two daughters. He had brought a suitcase full of clothing and shoes for us.
Booy: 10/2/45.We are well on our way to a more normal life. New jobs were created and we’ve taken over most of the work of the Japs. Engineer Hylkema will take over 6 mines; the papers were signed yesterday. I often kept him company on his many assignments. The Jap had worked hard developing the mines; a coalmine and a copper mine had been added. They also built a smelter near the nickel mine at Pomola. Many factories were claimed that didn’t exist before, among them were a cement and an oil processing plant. However, we presently don’t have enough people to man all these industrial places. The supplies the Japs are leaving behind are far larger than we dared dream. While the Jap Navy imprisoned us, we never saw what the civilians did inland. Our corps of engineers has been officially declared operational, and I transferred command to 2nd Lt. Daniels. I have a 500-cc. Ariel motorcycle in excellent shape, and I am in charge of purchases. This week 3 Dutch ships arrived; one of them is a minesweeper. A total of 2,500 Aussies arrived; they are wonderful people, everybody gets along with them. These boys didn’t have the greatest life during the last few years, and they are glad that they are in Makassar. Many have befriended Dutch families; they are in 7th heaven if they have someone to talk to. The relationship between us is great. Tomorrow I will move to the former engineers building, it’s much better there than in this hospital.
Many among us still haven’t heard from spouses; they don’t feel much like working, and that’s understandable. I also feel that I should hear something from Holland too, it’s about time. I won’t write until I know what the family situation is there. I must be patient.
We received one hundred guilders for the time being. Dutch money is being used more and more.
Olly van Driest - Young. I remember how several Australians befriended my family. They brought us huge loaves of bread, butter, and more. It was the first white bread we had seen since the beginning of the war.
While in captivity we fantasized about what kinds of food we really wanted. It was not cake and ice cream, but white bread with cheese and butter.
Stolk: In the meantime we went back to school, which was located in the former Nun’s school close to the Strand Way. It was odd to see all those big guys on school benches. All the seniors were together in the top grade. Kees and I were in the same 5th grade. Of course we couldn’t be treated like kids anymore, so we had special privileges, like being allowed to smoke during recess. We were also allowed to leave the school grounds during recess; we usually spent that time going to the beach, and the boys took a swim in their underwear. It was hilarious to watch the water dribble down from the school benches after recess. They all had wet seats, but in the tropics everything dries fast.
On Saturdays we danced at the club. Tjaak Muns, Joop van Dillewijn, or some one else picked us up. They picked us up in a large truck that would crunch the gravel whenever it would enter our driveway. We all climbed in, but it was sometimes so crowded that Kees Booy would stop us with his motorcycle to tell us that some of us had to walk. I always thought that Kees was an MP, but his diary doesn’t mention it.
To go dancing was a lot of fun; it was fortunate that I learned to dance in Kampili. I could now teach my brother and his friend John. However, it was not easy to teach guys who were wearing combat boots. My toes suffered a lot and suffered a lot of bruising.
I loved to dance and wouldn’t miss one for the world. In this tropical climate it became pretty hot and we perspired a lot. One of the dresses that had come from Australia was made of a crepe fabric that I wore to one of the dances. But when I mounted the truck on the way back home, I felt like I was a sausage. Because the dress became damp it started to shrink more and more. I found myself wearing a very short tight dress.
In the meantime a lot of Aussies had arrived in Makassar. When they were off duty they were pretty lonely and many families invited them to come to their homes, which was greatly appreciated by them. Kees also brought one of them into our house. They spent the evening smoking and taking a drink while they were shooting the breeze. I just sat there not daring to speak English for fear that I would make a mistake. Kees made all kinds of mistakes but he continued to keep the conversation going. He asked me angrily if it would make any difference to make a mistake, and it would be better if I would participate. Of course he was right, but I couldn’t change.
A while later I did get an Australian friend, his name was Jack Redding. A very nice quiet guy. We would regularly go out and that’s where I learned to smoke. The Aussies always gave us Chesterfields. I still have a photo of us girls with our Australian friends: Janneke Kater, Paula Seth Paul, Tonny Corten, Greti Tielman, Lies Wijker, Mia van Diggelen, and I.
Booy: 10/15/45. Time flies. We are now at war again, but this time we fight the natives. On the Isle of Java there are real battles going on. It is a bit more quiet here, 3 days ago a Dutchman and an Ambonese man were stabbed by a native. The culprit managed to escape after he had been captured.
This afternoon the fighting escalated, at 6 PM there were 4 dead. There was a lot of shooting going on. This time the fight was between an Ambonese and 3 from the other side. We are expecting more trouble, but at least we are free.
This afternoon I received 3 cans of tobacco from Balikpapan.
Of the 1,000 men that left for Japan 3 years ago, all but 4 returned to the Army. However, my friend Van Berg was among those 4 that didn’t come back. My colleague, Asjes of Ambon, also didn’t survive. Many of the Ambon groups had died.
After 2 months of waiting I still haven’t heard anything from Holland, and I’m disappointed.
On the other hand everything here is fine. We all had a physical this week; I still need to get a green light. I must see an eye specialist; but I don’t foresee any problems. My sight is improving by the day.
The new Army is growing. There are 200 former Army men and they are itching to participate in the riots. Two brigades under Sergeant Kruyt, left for Bonthain. Our weapons, which were captured by the Japs, have been returned to us. They have been put to good use.
My roommate Brouwers was hospitalized after his physical, so I am by myself. However, my radio keeps me from being bored. I really like the PCJ Hilversum programs. Fortunately I hear that Dutch troops leave for these regions every day, we can sure use them, they’re most welcome.
10/18/45. We live in a strange period: on one day twenty people can be murdered and the following days nothing happens. The result of these murders is that all Ambonese families have fled to our camps and they are now housed in the military hospital. Many Ambonese and also extremists lost their lives. (The Ambonese people were fiercely loyal to the Dutch-OY). Many patrols are conducted after dark.
A total of 8 English ships are in the harbor. They brought another battalion of Aussies.
All the Ambonese and Timorese people who passed their physicals leave for Balikpapan with their families for their new assignments.
A lot of murders are committed on the isle of Java, many occur in Depok, on the outskirts of Batavia (Jakarta). The measures that are being discussed in the English lower parliament to cope with the unrest are encouraging.
10/22/45. Today another 100 Ambonese left for Balikpapan. However, 410 Menadonese soldiers arrived. (The Menadonese live in the northern part of the Isle of Celebes, or Sulawesi as it is now called.-OY) The latter were never freed, but worked as conscripted labor forces for the Japanese. Their wives had been taken to the Isle of Java to work as “comfort women”. They carried large national flags on their march through town from the harbor to their camp.
It seems to be quiet now but the tension is right under the surface. The departure of the Ambonese took away a lot of pressure from the local natives, making it a bit quieter. It is still difficult to get the natives to accept Dutch currency, and even when they do, things are incredibly expensive. I myself hardly spend anything at all. All our comestibles, including cigarettes, are being supplied. Civilians have been paid, but the military have not.
The gents who were expected to arrive from Balikpapan don’t seem to be in a hurry to get here.
I ache for some news from Holland, I won’t write before I know what the situation is there. I listen to the radio every night during the time that news from family members is broadcast. I want to hear something about my family members, but so far I have heard nothing. I could not have imagined that it would take 2 months for the government to send a 10-word message per person to the Indies.
Stolk: Since John was in the Navy, he often took me to the harbor where we watched the Catalina seaplanes come and go from and to Australia to bring the mail twice a week. Once I joined him on a boat when he had patrol duty that night. I had to sneak on board to do that. That was fun!
One particularly fond memory I have was of our swimming parties in the harbor during moonlit nights under the tropical night sky. Tom van Meijgaard took us in his jeep. He knew about a concrete ramp, that was used to pull boats ashore; it sloped into the sea. It was an ideal spot for our swimming parties. We changed our clothes there. I wore a bathing suit that had been sent to me from Australia. It was a fabulous experience to watch phosphorous elements adhere themselves to our bodies. It seemed like we were silver mermaids and mermen swimming in dark water. We would float on our backs to watch the sparkling stars in a clear tropical sky. What joy! Afterwards we returned home in the jeep being thoroughly cooled down and relaxed. We would then fall asleep listening to croaking frogs and chirping crickets.
This was a memorable period, that last year we were in the Indies. We were young and had to make up for a lot.
Oddly enough, I had pangs of being homesick for the camp from time to time. I wasn’t lonely for the kind of life we had, but for the unity, the sense of belonging we had. Other forces are shaping our lives now; there is rivalry, everyone thinks for him or herself.
We had our finals, and afterwards I worked for Tom in the Army. That’s where I learned how to use a telex machine. I thought it odd that people could communicate with some kind of typewriter. It was something new for me.
In the afternoon we often played a game of tennis on the courts at the Bessie Road.
When we were informed that we had to return to Holland I really didn’t want to go. I caused the necessary problems for my mother when I told her that I didn’t want to go with her. Kees was still in the service and had to stay, so why couldn’t I stay too? I wanted to be buried under a coconut tree; I belonged here! Of course all this was pure nonsense in an unpredictable period of our lives. The Reverend Brokken from across the street was asked to talk some sense into me and, of course, I went.
Booy: 11/11/45. I wanted to stop writing my diary on Armistice Day. I can now write letters, which makes it unnecessary for me to continue my diary. This work describes our days of captivity and the consequences. However, we quickly forgot our past miseries, and memories of our friendships and successful feats in the camp are best kept in our minds.
Personally I learned a lot from these years, and I am thankful for that. I made friends who are spread all over the world now; I will relish thinking of them and writing to them. I have learned to appreciate many things in my life that I didn’t consider important before. Three and a half years ago I longed to go out, and now that I can, I am happy just to stay home with a good book and listen to a beautiful piece of classical music with an inner peace I never knew before. Looking back on the camp years I find a certain satisfaction in knowing that I made the life of my fellow camp members a bit easier. Among other things, a proposal has been made to promote me to the rank of Adjutant by our former commandant Captain Dieudonne. Even if this is turned down at a higher level I feel a great sense of achievement knowing that my deeds were very much appreciated by so many.
I hope that peace will return to these regions so that we may start rebuilding the Netherlands East Indies. Something I hope I can participate in. I am facing the future with a great deal of courage.
Voskuil: Jamadji will go to trial. Pastor Schneiders, who was so brutally beaten by him in Pare-Pare, will be one of the witnesses against him. Jamadji will be on the list of war criminals.
Many women of Kampili have passed judgment on Jamadji, but not all concur.
Seth Paul: Jamadji, the tyrant and camp commandant, who almost killed Pastor Schneiders and another man in Pare-Pare, turned to Catholicism. The same Father who became Monsignor later conducted the ceremony. After he served several years in prison he died in his country, a forgotten man….. Just like his victims were forgotten.
Lindeboom: It was several years ago when my ship, the ‘Carola Smits’ was ordered to sail for Hiroshima. We arrived at night, and with typical Japanese efficiency we would take on a cargo of car parts. This would take only half a day and we would be on our way to Australia, our destination. Our administrator could attest to the fact that I insisted on seeing the damage that the A- bomb had done, and I also wanted to visit the museum that housed the articles that had been gathered as a constant reminder of that day. I knew that there was a guest book in the museum in which visitors could write down their reactions. Even although I abhor the existence of the A bomb, and I hope that it will never be used ever again, I am convinced that, if it had not been for the use of this bomb, our lives as well as those of half a million Indonesians had been saved. After all, we did not provoke the war. I wrote in the guest book in red ink:
“Those innocent 200,000 Japanese who were killed by the A-bomb, unknowingly paid with their lives to save the lives of 200,000 innocent Dutch men, Dutch women, Dutch children, and 500,000 Indonesians. These people never asked for this war, and neither did they ask for the brutal slave labor that they were subjected to.”
Hofker: Eternal values. All those memories that piled up over the past years in the Indies, those of great difficulties and sadness, have faded into the background. We wrestled through the bitter hours. We wanted to overcome and only remember the beautiful and amusing moments that we were grateful for. Those recollections were the ones that gave us strength and joy and surpassed all the misery.
Stolk: Finally, here it is, black on white, the story of 3 ½ years of captivity.
Had it been really necessary to write about it? Aren’t there enough books that describe camp lives? Yes, of course, but none of them have been written about our camp. And I knew that there was a need for this book. Many of us waited for it, as did I. There had been an earlier attempt, but nothing came of it. That is why I started this book. I did this for the other camp members and certainly for my brothers and myself. Finally we could tell our story which wouldn’t let go when we first came to Holland. It wasn’t a matter of urgency, but we knew that we would join family members who had gone through a war themselves. They suffered hunger and cold, and they were glad that peace had come. Could they understand our account of the war? We looked strange in the clothing that had been given to us by the ATAKA. Here I was in my pumps and white socks. My cousins, who were as old as I was, looked and acted differently. They were not so naïve and childish as I, who was 4 years behind the time in life’s experiences.
We were filled with awe. We stayed at a house that was completely furnished with a burning hearth, overstuffed chairs, carpeting on the floor, and other furniture. We ate off china, there were books.
They lived here all this time… also during the war. I couldn’t comprehend all this right away. They were allowed to go out in the streets and visit others. They could celebrate birthdays, fall in love, get engaged, and marry. People told us how they married during the war. I was 16 when I started life in captivity and I was 20 when I was freed. Getting married? To whom? Fall in love? With whom? The oldest boys were about 15 when the war ended.
One of the most wonderful things I experienced about city life in Makassar was that you could just get out into the street and visit a friend, even although the native unrest put a damper on that. That was quite an experience after you had been cooped up with 1,600 people for 3 years behind barbed wire. For 24 hours a day you lived with 100 people in a barrack, the only thing that afforded you some privacy was a thin curtain between you and your neighbors. You lived in a 2 square meter area, and the only thing you owned was a bamboo bed without mattress, but instead there was a thin mat. A suitcase served as a table and there was a small wooden stool next to it. Then there was an enameled plate and mug, and a spoon and a fork. Clothing was a faded camp dress, a jumper, and wooden clogs that had a piece of tire to keep it from falling off your feet. Most of us had stored a decent dress and a pair of shoes in a suitcase for the ‘come back’, but after the fire we didn’t even have that.
We arrived in Holland wearing clothing that was given to us. We were not used to the thick fabrics, and the stockings felt like eels around your legs. Whenever I wanted to go out I was always reminded to put on socks and a coat; we had arrived in autumn.
There were more surprise in store for me, like the white man who was sweeping the street. It seemed a bit embarrassing. After all, this was the kind of job an Indonesian would do. There is no discrimination intended. This was par for the course. And the baker and the milkman, honorable citizens, but they were also white here. It wasn’t a bad thing, it just seemed odd…..
In this puzzling situation would anyone want to listen to our stories? We were plenty busy adapting to this situation and trying to fit in somewhere in this new society. But after many years retirement was a sure thing. The fight to find your niche is suddenly over and you’re faced with a lot of leisure time, which soon didn’t prove to be enough.
Then there still is the story which you never told, and which you have almost forgotten. The story that doesn’t need to be told so much anymore, but you still don’t want it to get lost. Pretty soon you’re not here anymore, and maybe there are people who do want to know about it.
Don’t talk about it, but write it down. Write about all those years that you lived without books, no magazines, and no news from the outside world, no letters, no papers, no radio, no cultural events, no movies. I did read in some of the diaries that there was indeed a library in our camp, but I didn’t know about it. There was a lack of toys, and I have no memories of my youth. I even lost the country where I was born. All the beautiful things we had gathered over the years are all gone. But no one can take away our memories about my life in the Indies. When I sit by the window looking into the autumnal back yard of aunt’s house, I dream of our large yard with so many flowers. I dream of the bleu skies, and the tropical sun, the green rice fields, the large white house with the terrace, the evenings that were filled with the sounds of croaking frogs and chirping crickets. I dream of the lights of the happy fireflies, and the sparkling night skies.
And then I get terribly homesick for the land of my birth and I really meant it when I told my mother that if I was given the chance to return on my knees to the Indies, I would start tonight.
I had wanted to write about these frustrations before, now that I did it, I can let go. It has given me a deep satisfaction.
I am glad that so many helped me by giving their diaries to complete this story; I had forgotten so much. Everything is all right now, even although no one wants to read it.
The following is a translation of an article that describes the execution by the Japanese of Lieutenant Colonel Jan Oorlog. In the Dutch language ‘oorlog’ means war.
For Freedom and Fatherland.
Those who died in South Celebes.
Lt. Col. J. Gortmans (Jan Oorlog)
23 April 1944
At the time when the Isle of Java fell to the Japs, Japanese troops had landed on some parts of South Celebes. Colonel Gortmans and his troops were located at Enrekang; they had not seen any Japs and he was not about to surrender. He would rather fight.
Colonel Vooren left for Enrekang to persuade Colonel Gortmans to surrender, because the war was over for the Dutch troops. It took a lot of convincing before Jan Oorlog agreed to meet with the Japs. Jan Oorlog then decided to add more officers to his staff to give the impression that the Japs had to deal with a much greater force than they anticipated. He added one major, several captains, and a few lieutenants.
Without doubt the Japanese major felt duped when only a few hundred Dutch troops surrendered. But Jan Oorlog managed to get a few concessions for his men; they would be allowed to keep their native daggers, and would be assured of decent lodgings and food. The Japanese major appreciated the courage of Jan Oorlog and he took the POW’s personally into Makassar where he showed them their quarters. In short, he honored their agreement.
Jan Oorlog was a military man before anything else; he was a man of action rather than a man who reasoned. Here he was in a camp where he had to sweet talk the guards into getting certain concessions for his men. It was not only the guards who respected his bravado and apparent careless attitude; he managed to accomplish more than anyone else. It didn’t matter that some criticized his personal traits; everybody agreed that he was a good camp commandant.
But fate caught up with him. The native military outside the camp, most of them Ambonese, grouped together. They didn’t like the Japs and wanted to start a guerilla movement. They called themselves Peladangs, which translates into ‘native swords’. They looked for advice and support from their hero Jan Oorlog.
Characteristically Jan accepted a leadership position with this brave group. However, some of them, who were not used to discipline, were so fanatic that they became careless. Surely Colonel Gortmans must have realized very often that this venture would turn into disaster; that he might lose his head if things continued this way. Could he back out? Could he show his fear of death to those old soldiers who felt that they faced a brave death while opposing the Japs? He couldn’t and he wouldn’t. He stood by them with advice and money, which was exchanged with coded messages until they were betrayed. Jan Oorlog was arrested and taken from the camp, never to return.
At the hearings of the Kempetai he remained a soldier. Several officers had learned that he took the blame, thus saving his accomplices. On the 23rd of April 1944 he was put before a firing squad.
Colonel, your nickname Jan Oorlog mirrored your character; you had faults like anyone else. Many called you a roughneck, but you were a guy with a heart of gold. Your sense of military honor was the highest and you retained that honor during your ordeal.
All of those who were in captivity with you, and those that were under your command will read this tribute and salute you in silence.
(I don’t know who wrote this article. OY)
This is an excerpt of a description of Jamadji, the Japanese commandant of Kampili.
War criminal Yamaji.
We have learned that Yamaji Tadashi appeared before a temporary war tribunal in Makassar on the 23rd. (There is no mention made of the month or the year. OY) He stands accused of having physically abused the interned men in Pare-Pare, and the women and children in Kampili.
In Pare-Pare he sought out men of the cloth and subjected them to his sadism. He used split bamboo sticks and the handle of a shovel to beat these men. At one time he tied a rope around the wrists of one of these men and let him hang for some time.
At a later date he continued this kind of sadism against women and children in Kampili. (I was one of the children. OY). Many accusations have been brought against Yamaji.
Oddly enough, many women have signed a document that showed that Yamaji did much for the benefit of the women and children in Kampili.
Lt. Col. N.M. Vellenga, Judge Advocate, and the military auditor Dr. Soumokil headed the members of the Temporary War Tribunal.
This matter was resolved at the same tribunal.
Yamaji received a ten-year jail sentence for his misdeeds.
Next is an article that was sent in to the local newspaper in Makassar.
Dear Editor,
I find it odd to read in the paper on the 22nd of May, that Yamaji was found guilty of having been abusive in Kampili, where he was the commandant. Indeed, he lacked certain qualities, but there never was any question about his leadership. On the contrary, I am sure that there are many women who would agree with me that these accusations are unsubstantiated.
It would be reasonable if he were to be punished for those things that he deserved to be punished for; but on the other hand he had done much for our benefit. Especially since it became known how the interned were treated on the Isle of Java.
Your reproach concerning the letter of thanks that was written by the ladies from Kampili, who were not pressured to write is unwarranted. The leadership of our camp sanctioned the letter, after we realized how much better off we were. I did not sign this letter, but, if necessary, I will fully support my stance in this matter.
Whoever wrote this article for your newspaper is either misinformed, or he has been led to believe these accusations.
I also find it odd, that most of the women who could have refuted your article have left Makassar at this time. But even now, there are enough ladies who will testify that Yamaji did his utmost to work for our wellbeing.
Signed, Sincerely, C.W. Verschoor. (I could not read her maiden name. OY)
Response from the Editor.
We printed this letter, even although we feel that anyone hitting a woman until she falls to the ground deserves to be hung. It is debatable that the writer of this article, and those like her, has lost her perspective in the camp.
We can trust the War Tribunal to sentence Yamaji according to the testimony that was presented. Without doubt they were fully aware of whatever Yamaji did for the camp.
Those ladies that took it on themselves to come to the rescue of Yamaji must realize that there were very many of them who suffered a lot. Therefore it is not appreciated that Dutch women should come to the defense of any Jap.
Anyway, we find it not important if this Japanese person received a few years more or less, but we will not supply any future letters concerning pro or con positions in this matter.
I could not decipher the signature. O.Y.
Olly van Driest-Young. My Story. July ’97.
Finally, I did it: the translation of Tineke’s book and reading over what took me 3 or 4 years to accomplish. Most of my free time was spent with English, Dutch, and Malay dictionaries, and a plethora of thesauruses.
My brother in Holland told me that a book had been published about our camp. He added that several of my drawings were printed in this book. I showed the book to my adult sons and they told me that it would be nice if I could translate the book into English. I contacted Tineke and asked her about copyrights in the Netherlands; she told me that, since so many people contributed to this book, I wouldn’t have to worry about it.
When I started to read over this voluminous work, I slowly began to realize that the course my life took after the war was influenced by my camp experiences. My total adulation of the Allied military, especially the Air Forces, channeled my subconscious to marry an American Airman. We had 3 sons, he died in December ’96, before I had finished the translation of this book. Since he had flown many combat missions in South Europe in the same kind of plane that flew over our camp he advised me about the type of bombs that were used and was helpful by giving me other information that pertained to his period.
I omitted several pages because I felt that the information, like the elaborate description of the paper that was put together during the last year, would not hold the interest of those who wanted to read about the war experiences of the camp members. Tineke died in February ’96; there was so much that I needed to ask her.
Nevertheless, I hope that anyone who reads this book will garner some valuable information that Tineke so ably put together.