One evening, we got the order to
leave a little lamp burning outside our camp. The enemy was approaching. A
large Red Cross Flag was spread in an open field. There was a striking and
frightening silence. We went to bed with anxiety.
We got up early
in the morning only to find out some Japanese soldiers in our camp. Our
commander, Dr. Tinbergen de Moulin was tied to a tree and beaten. We, the civil
nurses and other staff of the Camp had to stand nearby and watched this
inhumane scene. So, this was part of the war!
In the course of
the day, together with other nurses, I was driven to a shed. We had to sit down
on the ground. Just sat down. We should do nothing! How tedious! It made us
very...very tired!
The Japanese
soldiers who had to guard the Camp sometimes approached us. Invariably they
asked us, “Minahasa ka? Indonesia ka?” It seemed that the Minahassan people
were in favour with them.
The whole day long we just sat there, without food or
drink. Only when the sun
was about to set down that we were allowed to return to the hospital. I was
unexpectedly appointed to prepare food in our kitchen. Of course, I refused to
go alone, so four other ladies were allowed to assist me. I could barely hold
my tears when I entered the kitchen. Our once so neatly arranged kitchen was at
sixes and sevens! Margarine containers were opened, the tins of sweetened
fruits were thrown everywhere. I cried in my heart, “Those barbarians!” They
did not know these products and were afraid that they contained poison. My
heart was still crying for our precious yet wasted food.
Some drivers
followed us. They offered their services as cooks. We gratefully accepted their
kind offer and we went back to the hospital. I do not know what happened
further as none of us saw any food that evening.
We went to bed
fully dressed. Several times we were startled as some flashlight was centred
on our faces. Some haggard-looking Japanese soldiers wanted to see us even in
our sleep. Fortunately, no incident occurred.
The following
day, we asked permission to cook in the hospital kitchen. We got rice and
salted fish for breakfast. I went to collect the fish heads, then picked some chillies
and wild spinach that grow in abundance outside the hospital. I made a kind of
vegetable soup flavoured with the fish heads. The surgeon in charge of the
hospital thanked me for my initiative. They all need fresh vegetables.
After a week, all
patients and the nurses were transported to Makassar. We, the civil nurses,
were to assist in the army hospital in Makassar. It turned out that wounded
soldiers, sailors and pilots of the Allied Forces had been brought in. This was
my very first contact with war casualties. I pitied those young men and tried
to be as helpful as possible.
Yet, the war did
not end so soon. We, the civilian nurses, were dismissed. The European ladies
were taken to Malino, a mountain resort serving as an internment camp. I was free, but I did not know what to do. My school was closed
and I had nowhere to live. A teacher offered to put me up for the time being.
Soon the Japanese
set up a sort of civil administration under the supervision of Japanese high
officials. Celebes came under the Kaigun, the Navy. The Minseibu was the civil
administrative office, headed by a Minseibucho. The whole convent of Roman
Catholic nuns was occupied by Minseibu. Next to the Japanese officials, there
was also a staff of Indonesians. I was fortunate enough to come into contact
with Dr. J.S. Warouw, a highly gifted man from Manado. Under his capable
guidance we did our work.
It is certainly
very wrong to call us “collaborators”. Yes, seemingly we collaborated. But, in
reality, we were doing our best to help our own people. Our salary was nothing,
but sometimes we could obtain a whole “picul” of rice which we were able to
distribute among various friends. Soap, toothpaste, toothbrushes, sugar were
scarce, but kind-hearted Japanese friends gave us some every now and then.
It was not long
before I had mastered the Japanese language sufficiently to teach my other
colleagues. In this way, the Japanese did not treat us so haughtily anymore.
Whenever we had the chance we used the Japanese language.
At first, life
went on as usual, though after dark there was no social activity at all. Lamps
were dimmed. We, women, had to be very careful as many Japanese servicemen
roamed the deserted street and tried to enter some houses. Every now and then,
on hearing the siren alarmed, we had to hide in the shelters.
I had to
translate all the health regulations from Dutch into English. It was very
instructive for me. I got more practice in first aid. From the faces of the
Japanese soldiers, we guessed that the course of the war was not very favourable
for them.
One fine day,
around 11 a.m. when all activities in the city were in full swing, especially
in the harbour, four allied bombers flew over Makassar. The sirens whistled
instantly, followed by a heavy voice of explosion. Within minutes,
we were ordered to go to the spot that had been hit in the harbour district. We
saw the wounded and attended their wounds as best as we could. All of a sudden
the planes returned and we fled to seek shelter.
The harbour
district was bordered by the Chinese Quarter.
There were no gardens at all. Some two or three-story houses packed
closely, leaving us no hiding space. Luckily, we found an empty open front
verandah. Dr Warouw, two other colleagues and I laid down on our stomachs. I
saw an elderly woman sheltered not far from us. Her whole body trembled while
she was crying out loud her pray in a hysterical voice.
This time the
planes dropped no bombs.
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