Much of what follows is written by Wendy based on memories my sisters and I shared of stories he told us over the years, although there are a few paragraphs that he must have written very early on because they were written in Dutch.

When I was 19 years old (1947) I was called up to go into the army to fight in Indonesia, which was still a Dutch colony. As required by law all the 19-year-old boys of our village went to Gouda for the medical examination. I believe there were 34 of us. While waiting one of the boys wondered who of us would fail the exam. One boy was crippled so that was expected, and they thought I would be the second one to fail. I was not strong and had often been sick.

Then I thought, “I will show you that I am not a sissy like you think.” I also knew it was likely the only chance I would have to see more of the world. Most boys tried all kind of excuses to get out of military service. Some had eaten things they hoped would raise their blood pressure or sugar level. I was just the opposite and said I could do everything with my arm. My lower arms and hands look alike but when I went for my medical examination they told me that my one arm was 1 ½ cm longer than the other, but it was hardly noticeable.

Later when I was in training already my mother pressured me to apply for a re-examination. I didn’t like it but I had promised mother so I did it. She thought it was terrible that I had to go fight in Indonesia, which was then called the Dutch East Indies.

At that re-examination I found a no-nonsense doctor. He asked me what kind of work I did, and I replied that it was mostly administration. He then asked which company I was with, and I said I was with the administration corps. Thinking I was just trying to get out of the army, he shouted, “that’s the same thing, get out of here,” and told me to leave without an examination so I was able to stay in the army. I was in Indonesia for more than 20 months including the trips there and back which were about 30 days each way.

The days were long and we were put to work. When I was trying to get into the army I told my superiors that I could peel potatoes very fast, but on the boat I tried to get out of that by saying my arm hurt too much. I was usually in the office doing administrative work but was also sent out on night patrols.

It was a nice country, but very dangerous. One day when it was extremely hot, we were by the waterfront and some of us wanted to go swimming, but we knew there were sharks in the water. One decided to jump in anyway, but he never surfaced and before long the water started turning red. That shook us all up pretty badly. We also got lost once with a group on a mountaintop. The jungle all looked the same and in the dark it was easy to become disoriented. The roads were mined too so it was very dangerous to make our way back to the base.

The constellations are different in the southern hemisphere and on long night patrols it helped keep us awake to learn the different stars. The weather was the same every day and in the wet season we always knew exactly when it would rain and when it would stop again. We learned to eat different food than we had in Holland, especially bananas which we could pick from the trees.

There were a number of army chaplains along and a group of us that were from various Reformed churches would have our own services on Sunday. The Catholics also had their own services. In Holland we were raised with a very strong conviction that only our way of interpretation and our customs were correct, but as we worshipped together it seemed those differences were not nearly as important as were made out, we all worshipped the same God, believed the same things, and that Christians came from all different churches and backgrounds.

This was eye-opening for me, and I had a much harder time accepting the narrow boundaries when I returned to Holland. What also contributed to that was seeing how those who were the strictest on Sunday were also the wildest during the week, but those who were not so strict kept their Christian witness throughout the week. There were also many men who were not Christians at all but whose behaviour was much better than some of the strictest Christians.

Many lives were lost in that war, including some of my friends. Later when I emigrated I connected with some others who had also fought in Indonesia. One of these was Andy Jonkman’s father (married to Jenny De Jong from Oom Jaap) who was in the same company. We had been told we were fighting for Holland’s glory and that we were ‘saving’ the natives but when we got there, I had a hard time emotionally with how corrupt the Dutch companies had been there and how badly the natives had been mistreated. Indonesia had been a Dutch colony for many years, then lost it briefly when the Japanese invaded in 1942, and tried to regain power after the Second World War ended and the Japanese withdrew.

We had to go through the Suez Canal and were often laid up while waiting for our turn to go through the canal. I remember there were magicians in Egypt who could turn their staffs into snakes just like Moses did. Large groups of sharks followed the boat so it was never safe to go swimming. On the return trip in 1949 we travelled in a convoy of ships because the Dutch were pulling out of Indonesia having failed to regain control as the Indonesians fought for independence.

There was only one doctor, so all the women and children were put on the same ship with the doctor. Throughout the 20 days of travel, we would call out to that ship each time we came within hailing distance and sometimes as many as 10 babies had been born. I was able to bring back a cloth map of the Islands, a painting of Mount Tangkuban Perahu, which means ‘upside down boat’ which still hangs in my room, and three elaborate hand carved Bali wood sculptures.