All of a sudden he was gone

The story of mother A. about the sudden disappearance of her lover Bas

I worked as a nurse in the Navy Hospital in Surabaya. There I got to know B., a marine man who worked in the hospital. It was not exactly love at first sight. It has grown. You think: cute boy. I started to like him. We started dating. Eating together, dancing in the Marines canteen. Eventually nothing more than that, it was just fun. I got pregnant. That was how it went in those days, getting pregnant was part of the risk. But suddenly he was gone.

I was born in 1925, in the district of Pekalongan. My father was a Dutch-German, my mother was a Javanese. My father had leprosy. So my parents lived in a leper colony, my mother took care of my father. My parents could not take care of us, because my father was so sick. Like my brothers and sisters I had to go to the orphanage of Pa van der Steur when I was 6 years old. I’m actually raised in the orphanage and have not seen my parents so often. Pa van der Steur feels like my father.

Fear for Japanese soldiers

In the Japanese period we actually got interned in our own home. The orphanage was completely fenced, so we could not get out. There was always a Japanese guard at the gate. But we have never been in contact with the Japanese. Sometimes they entered the orphanage, looking for girls. There were these high basins filled with fresh water used for bathing, and there we went in hiding. We always had straws with us. We sat down at the bottom, at the side of the basin, under water. Those Japanese soldiers entered the bathroom, looked around with a quick glance .... and ready. They did not notice us sitting under water in the basins, breathing through the straws. But there are girls taken away. Supposedly as nurses. But we never believed that.

I was 18, 19 when the Japanese left. It was all chaos. We were liberated by the British, the Ghurkha’s, the Punjab and the Sikhs. Later Indonesian fighters came with bamboo sticks with sharp points. Shots were fired. We were afraid that we would be slaughtered. It was the Japanese who had to defend us against those Indonesian fighters.

A joyful time

I joined the Red Cross. To help people who were relieved from the camps. I had no medical training, but wanted to do something. And so I ended up in Surabaya, somewhere around 1947, to work there. As a nurse.

I had great difficulty finding a home. Surabaya was really crowded. Nearly all the rooms were rented. I lived in a garage. B. lived in the Marine Hospital. So he came to my house. Not every night, but regularly. We went socializing, have a drink somewhere, and sometimes dancing. In the canteen of the army, or to the port, there was a dance hall of the Navy.
There were many Indo-european girls like me, who dated with Dutch servicemen. It was a great atmosphere. I had a sister, also a nurse, who also went out with the Dutch guys. But I did not have much contact with her. I was mostly just with B.

I knew he was engaged back home in the Netherlands. But at that time there were so many engagements with Dutch girls that came to an end. I did not pay much attention to it. We went a year, year and a half with each other, when I got pregnant.
That’s how it was in those days, you did not know better. We had no contraceptives. I do not remember how B. reacted, it's been so long ago. I thought that we would marry. I was carrying his child. But unfortunately, this did not work out.

A last chat

Out of the blue he was suddenly gone. Of course I wondered: where did he go? I was at home one day, when a girl who lived next door came to me and said: do you want to see B.? I thought, seeing B. How? Well, she said, he is in jail. At the harbour in Surabaya. She also had a friend who was there. She later married him, and they had two children. She had visited her friend in jail, and he had told her that B. was also there. The guy had apparently asked to take me to B. I  jumped on the back of her bike, with my heavy belly because of the pregnancy, to meet B. We talked a bit. Not inside, but outside the building where he was staying. That is the last time I have seen him.

Then he was gone. I have since heard nothing from him. He never wrote  me. No letter, nothing. I had his address in the Netherlands, but I have never written him either. If he has nothing to say to me, why would I do that? I did not think of him anymore.

A difficult period

My daughter was born in May 1950, a month or so after B. had left the country.
A sister of mine has been a great support to me. Because if you're so far with a big belly, you can not work. And she gave me money to live on. That helped me a lot. Therefore I named my daughter after her. Unfortunately my sister perished in a car crash shortly after the birth of my daughter.

I started working in the sewing room in the hospital. In the daytime I left my daughter behind with the babu, Sarah. It could not do otherwise.

It was a tough time, but what can one expect? I could also have given away my child to the orphanage, but I did not want to. Because I've been in an orphanage myself. Not that I've had a bad time in the orphanage. I had a nice time. But still....
Ohh, when I think of that time.... but yes. That time is over. It all ended well.
I met another man. He was also Indo European. He was very kind to my daughter and has always regarded her as a child of his own. We have raised our seven children together. He worked as a gardener in a sugar company of the Trade Association Amsterdam. But at some point it became increasingly difficult for Indo-European people in Indonesia. There was a boycott, we could not even go shopping at the market and so on. Happily enough we had a cook who bought our groceries.

But we had no life. We had to leave. Along with all the kids we migrated to the Netherlands.

Looking for her father

Not so long ago my daughter started to search for her biological father. It's her choice. I can not say: don’t. It's her father. If she wants to have contact with him? That's her choice. She wanted to know who and how, and what he is. So yes, go ahead.

I do not take him something amiss. But deep in my heart I feel... Because he has left so sneaky. That's my pain. He has never told me that he had to leave. And since he left Surabaya, he has never written me about it. So apparently on his side it was not as deep as I had hoped. It has meant more for me than for him.

My daughter has found her father last year. I have also met him. We agreed to meet once without the kids, but he does not dare. Maybe he's afraid for something behind my offer, that I would like to start a relationship again. But that’s not what I want at all.

A. (1925)

Also read the story of A.' s daughter, ‘A successful search!’ in the category of Warlovechildren in the Netherlands.