The Attack on women and children

THE ATTACK ON WOMEN AND CHILDREN

THE ATTACK ON WOMEN, CHILDREN AND SOME OF THE MEN WHO HAD ALREADY COME BACK
The following story took place in 1946 in the than so called Dutch Indies, in a Jappenese prison camp.

Vibrant and jubilant, liberation had taken her entrance. It came suddenly, almost as a surprise, in one single day. It was great, seductive, intoxicating, unbelievable. Sitting up there in the tree, looking over the camp wall to freedom with a bright happy feeling: “we made it”. Other children in the tree laughed and shouted to each other and pointed at the mountains. But then, a terrible noise coming from everywhere, a whistling sound, something that flew past your ear, danger! Like apples we fell out of the tree.
Mothers came running to us, yelling “come along, they are attacking us”. Bullets, running, fleeing into our small rooms, quickly on the ground, what is happening, than loud yelling on the other site of the wall:" merdeka". My mother shouted to us, run, the Indonesians are coming, than we saw them coming over the wall like pirates with war colors on their faces and guns, other wapons, frighting looking fellows. We ran as fast as we could. More Indonesians came over the wall, everyone ran in panic into the narrow pathway to the other side of the camp, to the very large open field. There also were Indonesians yelling: “merdeka, merdeka”. We all ran on the field as far to the end as possible, there were already a lot of people. The Indonesians stood in a broad circle around this big field, they stood everywhere with rifles at gunpoint, waiting for the order to shoot.’
In some of the barracks, all women had barricaded the doors and windows with their beds, tables and all their luggage, they did not want to come out to be killed without a fight. And whatever the attackers tried, they didn’t manage to get them out, which ultimately was our salvation. It lasted and lasted, everything was silent, fearfull we stood there on the field listening if they would get them out of the barracks. Suddenly they began shooting at random and throwing grenades. “get down”, people screamed, “get down”, we also screamed. The men that had already come back to their wives and children in our camp, threw the grenades back as fast as possible. Everyone was dead silent and we all began to pray. Laying flat on the grass, I suddenly felt a terrible blow close by, it was so bad that I thought my chest would burst apart and I had blood all over me and pieces of all sort of things. Oh God, I am dead, everything is broken, this it it. How strange, I can still hear, I can still see, if this is death, that cannot be so bad. How strange I can still move my fingers. Oh God, I am only wounded, but I don’t feel any pain.
Carefully, I looked at the things that were lying upon me: “where, where am I wounded?” Then I heard my mother’s voice: “get up, quickly, we have to get out of here, we have to go further to the back, quick, quick”. Can I do that, Oh God, it is not mine, it’s someone else’s, I could not fully believe it, but coming up and running I found out their was nothing wrong with me. Away, far away we ran as fast as we could to the back, where no Indonesians were. In the running crowd we lost my brother and went for the toilets were we crept on top of each other. My mother then heard my brother crying. She called: “Anton, we are here”. He came to our toilet. Weeping he said: “Mummy, how should I pray?” You never forget something like that. Cramped together we all were praying aloud, waiting to be killed. After some time we heard even worse wild shouts from the rooftops. Everybody in our toilet looked up with terrible fear in their eyes, wich I never will forget, this is the end, they said. Kiss your children goodbye, we will die. More terrible shouts and infernal noise, then shooting, bullets were flying around, pops, running, screaming was all we heard. Absolutely terrified we waited.
Someone yelled: “they are ours, it’s the Gurka’s, it really is.” It became dead quiet. Was it possible, would we be rescued? Very carefully some went looking and saw dark men passing by, grinning and laughing at us: “the Gurka’s, the best warriors there are”, someone said. “They come to liberate us”. Everyone started to cry and thank God.
And yes, one hour later the had captured some Indonesians and others fled. We came creeping out of our toilets looking around for relatives, we found my grandmother, who was overcome by panic, had ran so fast that see fell down and had kept silent as if she was dead. How you feel then is indescribable. You get your life back, you live, it’s the most wonderful feeling in the world, I have never ever forgotten this feeling.
I didn’t want to tell this story at first, but my eldest daughter made me do it and I am glad I did.
Dinkie

Anja my friend

DEAR ANJA
The scary black car came closer, slowly creeping up the street like a monster. It stopped in front of the house, where we just said goodbye to our dear young friend (45 years only), who 10 years after a long battle against cancer, had left us. Standing next to our car, we looked at this big nasty black car, why black, so penetrating, so gloomy, she had to leave her wonderful husband and son of 15 years.
All very understandable to the mind, but your heart said otherwise and it was with pain we had to see that, that black monster would take her away forever. This sweet creature, Anja came into our lives quite unexpectedly. We were the only witnesses to their marriage. They were both modern, young, true individualists, a nice modern different pair, both could have been our kids. We were deeply moved by this very special gesture, weddings of my own children we had missed or were painful, this gave us a wonderful feeling.
In the amazing old city hall of Brouwershaven, we were both there as the only witnesses of this commitment. Who would ever have guessed that that black monster, would separate them for good. A happy sunny day we spent with them, lunch in Veere, dining in Zierikzee, great weather, beautiful images. In the background the lake of Veere, it was a very happy day. They then already lived in an old farm in our village. Ruud, my husband’s ex-son in law with Anja. Ruud, playing in a heavy metal band, crazy about boats, a great sailor with the same hobbies as Willem, guitars and boats.
About 6 years later they bought an authentic old freighter, 26 meters long, which had to be totally restored, but they went to live in it anyway with their new-born son, Joeri. Those were years of hard toil and spending much money, but the result was more than worth it, it became a beautiful sailing sailfreighter.
Then suddenly Anja felt the first lump, everything was completely removed even the lymph nodes. Five fearful but peaceful years followed, sailing, enjoying, sailing in France and loving to live on the freighter in the water. Joeri liked life on the big boat, swimming, fishing and many friends in the harbor, a good life and both parents enjoyed their special kid.
There was a large drumkit in the boat, because Joeri is also filled with music and now plays as 15 year old in a band.
Suddenly, being on holiday, after 5 years a small lump on the other side. Then the deadly road began, without any mercy, in the most severe form of suffering, which lasted 5 years, a merciless struggle for all three which ended with the terrible black monster at the door. The farewell of their beloved wife and mother. We also witnessed all this senseless suffering and sadness, powerless, helpless.
We had to say goodbye to this lovely creature, Anja, who was only given such a short time with us. Dinkie

AN ACCIDENT IN FEBRUARY 1975

After a serious accident to my right eye I lay flat in the Eye hospital Leyenburg in The Hague. I was not allowed to move, not even to go to the bathroom, everything had to be done lying down, until it was safe and not dangerous anymore. After five days I was finally allowed to sit in bed and the 6th day they took me to the X-ray department in a wheelchair. They wanted to make an x-ray of my eye socket to see whether it was broken. When arriving at the X-ray department there was a man who looked a little bit strange, like someone artificial, but with radiant bright blue eyes and a very friendly smile.
Scared and nervous I was waiting what would happen if it was broken, I didn’t know. “So”, the man with the beautiful blue eyes said “are you a bit nervous”. “Don’t be it is just an x-ray”. “Yes, I know, but what if my eye socket is broken?” “ don't worry about that, that is nothing, they can fix it”. Curiously I asked him, why are you here? Well. my child, I have fallen down from the 20th floor, a screen first protected me a bit, then I fell into the bushes. In a large bucket they took me to the hospital. I had almost broken everything one can break. I’ve been in various hospitals for the past five years and had up to 15 surgeries and you see, I am still here and almost all my limbs are plastic.
Stunned, I said: but you are still good looking. He looked at me and smiled." That is the nicest compliment I’ve had in 5 years, thank you." ‘
The ice was broken then and during our long wait we drank coffee and talked and laughed about all his new limbs. This is an event you will never forget and luckily my eye socket wasn’t broken and after seven days I went home to my kids cheerfully.
But I have never forgotten the man with the beautiful blue eyes hoping, he had a nice life after all, he deserved it, Dinkie.

MIRACLES EXIST – THE SECOND MIRACLE (herhaling september 2007

Babysitting, Eva and David

BABYSITTING

We have three daughters in law, none of these three were the type to held their mother in law close to their bossom and say,I will always be kind to her, who is expecting this will soon be disillusioned. It is more like: don’t bother me and I will not bother you. In Brussels they would be envious to reach this kind of understanding.
Very great was my surprise, when I was asked to take care of my youngest son’s daughter, my third grandchild who lives in the same village as we do. I felt honored that they had so much faith in me (stupid, stupid). It had to be permanent for at least a couple of years. Though, I was very pleased and happy that that beautiful baby was mine alone one day weekly, I was also afraid for the responsibility of such a small human being, who would be completely depending from us, but also overjoyed in a way, again taking care of a baby now on this age in my life, to start again, was something I never had expected.
We bought a little cot, mattress, trolley, etc., which was fun but also expensive. Other things were purchased, such as a drinking cup, diapers and much more. My life started again. And then there she was for the first time, the sweat was pouring down on me at the first diaper change, the first bottle, the burp, etc. Everything had to be on time, also the sleeping, this especially was difficult for me, every 6 minutes I went to check if she was okay. On one of her shows Oprah had talked about SIDS and this had made me anxious. After 1½ years my blood pressure was so high, that the doctor suggested, to look after her only half days, which I didn’t do at first, I rather took pills. We managed to do it for almost 3 years, then she went to the crèche (day nursery) in the mornings until one o’clock and at half past 1 we were there every week, thrilled to take here home. I loved the time I spend with her, together with Willem, it was our baby on that day and we hugged her a lot. We couldn’t get enough of our dear little Eva. We bought her lots of things, it was great to be able to spoil her. We played with dolls, kitchens, a doll house, it was wonderful. We enjoyed the company of this little girl very much. She had trouble sleeping, just like her father used to. So in the afternoon around 2 p.m. we went for a drive in the car with the baby on my lap and sure enough after 15 minutes she fell asleep and we went somewhere quiet near the water watching sailboats. When my arm went to sleep, Willem took her over carefully and so she slept for 2 hours in a row. When she became too old for this and didn’t sleep anymore in the afternoons, we went to all the playgrounds on the island, to all garden centers, to the beaches and also to the children’s carnival, a big hall with inflatable equipment, slides and other inflatables. After these outings we ate pancakes and drank something. We always had a delightful time. In those 14 years we spent many hours running, climbing and panting on our bare feet after Eva. In the evenings we were broken and drained, but still we enjoyed it enormously having her and eating ice cream with her. In all those years she never cried once when being with us. She never had a tiny accident nothing at all.
But now at 76 years, with also her lovely little brother present,it is, although I find it very enteraining, sometimes a little too much for us. I start dreading the babysitting when I am not feeling good or we are a little bit sick and tired. That obligation each week is making it diffucult, because the parents are counting on us, but we try to do it as long as we can and I hope we can manage to do it for one or to years more. I love these grandchildren so much, that I also must learn to let go. Now after almost 14 years the nanny time is over and I hope to enjoy the delightful company of these two children for a long long time in a different way.
I think that now the time has come that we can say, when asked to babysit: yes, now we are feeling fine and we can take care of them this evening or that afternoon. We will always be there for these two. But still we are having the bigger David and Eva every tuesday after school, but when they just drop by we love it the most.
Dinky

The Violated Trust from a 6 Year Old Girl in Indonesie in 1940

VIOLATED TRUST

Slowly the traffic from the city Surabaya dawned on her. There I was, 6 years old, together with my mother in a “dokkar” (horse carriage). I looked at my beautiful dress, which I’was allowed to pick out myself. The horse was galloping gently with bells tinkling, the coachman gave light taps with his whip. My mother looked beautiful. Very happy I looked at the bustle around me, for once just alone with my dear mother without my brother. My mother said:" my darling girl, we are going to visit your uncle, dr. Hammacher in the hospital for a while, before we go together to the city". I nodded. My uncle was familiar to me, he was a cousin of my father. I had even lived with him for 3 months, when I was 2 years old. Vaguely I remembered some things, lots of freedom and attention. Skipping joyously, I walked with my mother into the hospital. A nun greeted my mother and me and said: the doctor is in the operating room, you know the one around the corner, third door. And there he was, sitting on a chair next to the operating table. Quickly I went to him and kissed him on his cheek. Hello, my dear little girl, he said." How are you, have you ever seen an operating room, ". "No" ,I said. "Do you know what this is? It’s an operating table." "Oh", I said, "it is big". Full of confidence I looked from him to the table. "Would you like to sit on it?", I nodded. He lifted me on it. Just lie down, he said. Yes, why not, I thought. “Look, he said this is a cap they use to cover your face” and so he did. Suddenly I got anguished and frightened, I fought and struggled like crazy, what's this", then I fell in the deep darkness and was gone. When I opened my eyes again, I had the feeling that knifes were in my throat and I started to cry. Nuns came and gave me some ice water, which I refused and kept on crying. In this pure white room with windows at both sides were three beds. My bed was on the inside and I looked out on the big wide corridor. On the other side of the room you looked on to the veranda. We were at the end of the corridor and you could see large wide steps going down to a beautiful garden. In this large corridor several people were lying on couches with small tables next to them and there were big plants everywhere. Of the three of us I was the eldest, I was 6 years old. I was furious and very sad, ate and drank nothing, refusing everything. The nuns were desperate. My parents appeared on the veranda, but were not allowed to come in because of the risk of infection, a real threat in the tropics (penicilline was not yet invented). The only thing I showed them was my angry back. My uncle and the nuns were desperate, whatever they tried, I absolutely didn’t want anything and kept this up.
In the corridor there also was a young and very tall priest, who had come very ill out of the bush, he had severe malaria and was recovering now. He smiled and waved at me sometimes. The nuns told him about my behavior. He said: “let me try”. When I woke up in the morning, again feeling terrible, he stood smiling friendly at my bedside and immediately started to tell me an exciting story, while carefully feeding me juice with ice. As of that day he took care of me for the remainder of my stay. He washed, fed, comforted me and told me stories. The nuns were fine by it and so he became my personal nurse. When I was allowed to walk around after four days, I always sat with him in the corridor. I systematically refused to see or greet my parents, I always turned my back to them.
After 7 days I was allowed to go home, I held on to tables, chairs and doorways, I didn’t want to leave him. After talking to me for hours about his work in the bush and all the dangers and sick people there, I understood that I had to say farewell to my great friend. He gave me a lovely snow white ring, wich fitted me very good, I finally, bathing in tears, said goodbye to my dear friend and caregiver. Sadly, I’ve never seen him again, but I’ve never forgotten him either.
When my daughters were to be operated on their tonsils, I played doctor and nurses with them for hours, telling them what would happen, so they knew and when the moment came, they were ready and fully prepaired for it.
Dinkie

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

A TERRIBLE DAY

It was mid 1968. At that time we lived in Voorschoten in de Papenlaan, in a lovely house. At the age of 35 I passed for my driving license after 3 trials and made it a habit to take my now ex husband once a week to his work at the Waal harbour or another harbour so I could use the car for the rest of the day, mostly to run errands for the kids or sometimes to take them on a shopping spree. At half past five I drove back to Rotterdam to pick up my ex, there were no traffic jams then. Often one or two of the kids came along, also that day my daughter Arlette and her friend Wilma. Before driving to Rotterdam we went to Wassenaar to do one more errand and I saw a hitchhiker wanting to go to Rotterdam. I said: okay, get in, but you have to be patient because before driving to Rotterdam we first have to do a couple of things. That is no problem Madam, said the nice and very shy young man of about 23 years. For an hour he accompanied us everywhere, also to our house in Voorschoten. He sat sweet and perfectly still and let it all come over him, the loud music, the rush and our running to and fro. Finally we were on our way to Rotterdam. He didn’t want anything to eat or drink, although I offered it several times to him. Just as we came on the highway, bang, a flat tire. The young man immediately lamented that he couldn’t help me, as he didn’t know how to assist, he had nothing with cars. Furthermore he said: I play the piano and I am very careful with my hands. I said: dear boy, don’t worry, I can do anything and we all stepped out of the car. Anyway, mother went to work. In those days I was fashionably dressed, very hip, high-heeled boots. Unfortunately that was not the right clothing for the job, but I succeeded. The tire was replaced. The spectators were clearly relieved. Then I tried getting the hup cap back in place hitting it with my hands, which failed, it fell off again and again. Slightly irritated I sat on my rear end, pulled up one leg and leaned backwards so I could give it a smack with my high heel. At the moment I darted out, the silent young man suddenly put his hand on the wheel cover too keep it in place and got my whole heel in his hand. I screamed, he screamed and the girls screamed. Dancing with pain, he kept his hand in his other hand and walked whimpering around. I screamed: how can you be so stupid, let me see. His hand was getting thicker and swelled up and he was white as a sheet of the pain. I said: we go to the hospital straight away. But he cried: no madam, I want to go home. In Rotterdam sitting silently with his swollen hand across his chest, it was a very sad situation, the poor boy sufferd terribly but insisted that he did not want to go to the hospital. He directed me straight to the street where he lived. Whatever I tried, all he wanted was to go home and lamented about playing the piano. When he got out, he turned around and said: thank you very much for the lift. I said: my dear boy, go to the doctor soon and then he was gone into the street to his house.
Every year this incident comes sometimes suddenly to my mind,I than hope every thing is allright with him, although it was very serious. This is something you will never forget. I hope he is doing well and hope that he can still play the piano.
Dinkie

Foto's van Elsie met haar mooie oorbellen, foto Elsie en Gwen mijn moeder en foto van Elsie en Dennis