My new life in Kolhorn, April 25, 1946

After boarding the ship the 'Bosfontein' in Tanjong Priok on March 30,1946 we arrived in the Netherlands,we had been 4 weeks at sea.

The ship arrived in Amsterdam and we were assigned to a small bus and taken to Kolhorn, a small village where my mothers parents were living.How sad it must have been for my mother to leave the Dutch-Indies as a widow.I was 5 years old and I remember this big ship. I was so scared. I had lived for three and a half years in such confinement, that I could not take it all in. Too many things were happening to me.My mother told me I screamed so loud, when I had to walk up the gangplank

On top of the gang plank are my mother and I, we were on the Boschfontein. The ship I would meet my new father.

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We children were so scared, we did not know what to believe anymore, we had gone through so much, and this ship was so high and we saw so much water.

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On the ship we were sleeping in hammocks with hundreds of other women and children.We often had drills because the sea was full of mines.(I wrote about this trip on my older blog)

Arriving in this small village Kolhorn my new life began.Many good memories are stored in my memory, although I only lived in Kolhorn for two years.In 1948 we moved to Zandvoort, where I lived until 1970, when I left for Canada with my husband and two children.

My two years in Kolhorn were one of the happiest times of my life.When we arrived here from the Dutch Indies I always asked my mother if we could stay in this camp forever, because I liked it here the best. I was sleeping in a bed with crispy nice sheets, and we had these wonderful meals. I did not have to eat this horrible wall paper paste porridge every day anymore.

The small house from my grandparents, where I spent the best two years of my life. This picture we took in the summer of 2010 when we were on vacation in Holland.

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This picture is taken from the dyke, see the arrow, that's the house, see above picture.

This house was where my mother's sister lived.

She lived next door to us.Memory lane 2010, see the window above, I sometimes slept there in the attic with my cousin Jannie.On the picture I am talking to my uncle Kees. He married the youngest sister of my mother. My half-sister Sietske is standing beside her.We visited Kolhorn in 2010 with my half-sister and brother. My brother, Leendert, is born in this small village in 1947.

Visiting the small village of Holland in 2010. Time stood still, so many memories. On the left my uncle Kees, me Thea, my brother Leendert, my aunt Anneke, her son Piet and his wife Gees, my sister in law Netty, and my sister Sietske. It was an emotional visit.My aunt told me so many things I never knew about. Lots of tears flowed. We went back again this year in May, and had such a good time.

This bridge I had to cross everyday when I went to school. On the left Ruud, my husband, my sister in law Netty and myself on the right.I will never forget that one day I had to cross this bridge to pick up some tins my mother had bought. I dropped the package on the bridge and one of the lids from one of the tins blew into the water. So from then on my mother had three tins,one without a lid.The tins were for coffee, tea and sugar.It's such a vivid memory, because when this happened, and when I came home with the package, my mother cried because I had lost the lid from one of these tins. Later she told me, that this was her first purchase, to set up her new household.She had saved every penny and coupons for these tins.The year was spring 1948.

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Kolhorn is a beautiful village.

Such memories.

This picture was taken at the house from my uncle and aunt. My half brother was just a few months old. I wear a skirt my mother had knitted and a coat  I received in Ataka, Egypt, on our way back to the Netherlands.I love my aunt Anneke, she is my second mother.

Water every where.

Nothing has changed.

Taking a walk in the village, with my aunt and my sister.

My husband buying wooden shoes with my uncle Kees.

My aunt Anneke on the left with my husband Ruud my sister Sietske and my uncle Kees on the right.

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At the house of my uncle and aunt in Kolhorn.

This is the house my uncle Kees and aunt Anneke are living in Kolhorn..What a nice village to live. Every where is water and so quiet. On the picture you see me on the left, with my uncle Kees and my sister Sietske.This was taken in May 2011. 

What a nice trip that was.For me, it was memory lane all over again. I loved it. I hope to visit my aunt and uncle again this year. Please stay healthy! I love you both very much.

My next blog will be about our move to Zandvoort aan/zee, that was not pleasant for me. I did not like to leave this village Kolhorn, I just was settled, and now we had to move again.

My Opa and my Oma, my mothers parents.

My mother was born  January,9,1919.in Berchum, Friesland in the north of Holland. She came into this world as the sixth child of some very hard working parents.Three more children were born after my mom. Her father Gerrit Sijtsma(my Opa born June 17, 1883) transported goods all over The Netherlands by transport boat. Whatever transport he could get would be delivered by boat over the Dutch canals. They all lived on this boat.Raising nine children was not easy in such a confinement.The washing, the cooking and the constant worry that one fall overboard, I cannot imagine how they were able to do it. My Opa(grandpa) was the kindest smiling man,his face was strong-looking very weather-beaten , always making jokes.He loved dogs just as much as he loved his children.As long as I can remember he had a dog.He always smoked a pipe and he chewed tobacco, when he spit on the ground all this brown horrible looking stuff came out his mouth. His teeth were brown too. Beside his chair was an earthy looking pot, they called it a spittoon(dutch word, kwispeldoor)in which he would spit the tobacco and phlegm.These pots were usual made from Delfts blue.By the time he was 60 his back was so bend, he walked almost with his nose on the ground.My Oma's maiden name was Stenekes,(my grandma was born 1883) her first name Tetske, the name they gave me.She was the sweetest Oma I ever had. She passed away at the age of 69 and my Opa at the age of 84.My Oma was married before and it was her husband who owed the transport boat, he died suddenly and  my Oma became a very young widow with a child, and a child on it's way.. It was decided that his brother should take over the transport business.Later in life he would jokingly say;" yes, the transport business came not only with a boat but with a wife and two children". But in those days this was the best solution.So my Oma married the brother from her husband.Their life has not been easy, but they were very happy.

My grandparents with their two youngest children and of course their dog.

 A picture with all nine children.

My Opa(grandpa) told me so many stories about the time that they were all living on this boat.The most dramatic story he once told me was about religion. At the time it was around 1947,and I was telling him all sorts of things from Japanese camps and that I had loved the nuns in camp. They had taught me a lot about God. I loved to sing these songs about God and how he would protect us etc.etc.My Opa was very open and tell you exactly what he thought. My Oma would often interrupt my Opa, and would say:" Gerrit,' how can you tell this to a child'. He would just laugh and would say: "This is how I see it, and if they can tell my kids all kinds of stuff  which I do not approve of , then I can tell my own kids,and my own grandchild what I believe and what I think about it. Because it is lies what they are trying to tell these little kids, I call it brainwashing, all in the name of God, money and power. I tell them what I have seen, and how I see it. They can make up their own mind, when they become adults. But for now this is what I am telling them so they have a choice". And so my Opa would tell me that he did not believe in God, that God was you, and nobody else.We have brought up our own children to know what is good or bad, he would say, and what a bunch of fine young adults they are.I have seen too many ugly things, when we were moored with our boat on these inland waters.I have been through two wars, where men killed each other . How can that be, if men on earth should love one another. They should teach Love, instead of showing kids a big cross with  Jesus hanging with huge nails in his hands, and this barbwire stuck on his head, with blood painted all over him.It was 1946 and my mom and I had just arrived from The Dutch-Indies(now called Indonesia) I had started school that year, it was September.Next to the school was a church and one day my friends asked me if I would like to come with them  to attend a church service. I was entering this church and saw this huge cross with a man hanging on there and I screamed and nobody was ever able to take me back into a church.

That is the church in the background.

This is the small town Kolhorn. I lived there two years.

They were one of the best years of my life.

I think it reminded me of the women I had seen hanging on trees and being punished by these Japs, when I was in these camps on Java in world war II,( I still cringe when I see these crosses ). My Opa was so mad, he wanted to know who had taken me to church.I was so scared because my friends who attended this church had told me if I would not go to church I would burn in Hell, because that's what the priest said.He would take me on his lap and would make all these horrible things disappear from my head. He would tell me about the beautiful country site with beautiful birds and meadows so green and the lambs and cows.How peace full it was and so quiet. He would talk about his life on his transport boat, and how everybody would bike or go by boat to their jobs, that there were hardly any cars, only the filthy rich(he would say) had a car, a metal beast.
Later when I was older it's when he told me the other things he had seen, and why he was so opposed to Churches.I am coming back now to the most dramatic story he ever told me and he was telling this to me with tears in his eyes. I must have been about twelve or thirteen years old.He told me that he wanted me to know this, it's very ugly he said to me, but now that I am a big girl he felt he had to tell me.I had reminded him, that he had promised me to tell me this ugliness he had witnessed.
And so began his story;
One night he had moored his transport boat in this beautiful quiet spot in the middle of nowhere, it was a beautiful night and the moon was almost full.He had gone on land for a walk, which he did often. Suddenly he heard splashing and from the spot where he was sitting he saw a small row boat with a Priest rowing the boat.It was funny he said, because here was this priest in the middle of  the night rowing a boat with a long cloak(he called it a dress)in the middle of this waterway.

The Netherlands with their many water ways.

Every where you go in The Netherlands there is water.

All of a sudden the Priest would stop rowing and a small basket was thrown into the water. The Priest quickly would row away. My Opa wanted to know what was in the basket, because he had seen this before, and this time his inquisitiveness got the better of him.He was able to retrieve the basket.What shock he got when he saw what was in this basket. He told me he cried and still got tears in his eyes, in the basket was a dead newborn baby.And it was not the first time he had seen this, but had never before thought anything about it.He knew for sure that the baby was murdered, and that these baby's were born in this Monastery. He told me that he had often seen this happening while he was moored near this Monastery.I cannot believe that this God they preaching about will forgive them for what they are doing, he said to me.The sad part of the whole thing was, that nobody believed him. That is God's house you are talking about; he was told. How dare you!In those days you could be put in jail, for telling this. So he kept quiet. But he loathed the Church and he could get very upset with anything what had to do with preaching about God.

My Opa, one of his last pictures, still this twinkle in his eyes. He always had something mischief up his sleeve.

 He told me that other things had happened too, but would not tell me. Now I understand what more he would have liked me to know, but in those days you did not dare talk about what was really happening behind these closed doors. All he said to me that there were men in those churches hiding behind these funny clothes they wear, but that they were sick men who did not know what and who they are.I did not understand at the time.But now I understand.Just before he died, he told me that he was going to a beautiful place, far, far away.And if he would meet God there he would let me know. I have never heard from him.I know he has a smile on his face and I can see the twinkle in his eyes.

My wonderful Opa and a little dog , he thought my  half-brother should have.

Notice the wooden shoes.(klompen)

My husband was brought up as a Catholic and when he was 16 years old his parents told him he was allowed to make his own choice. He never went to church again,neither did his sister.They went to catholic school and the most important thing they had to learn was the catechism. There was literally hell to pay if they forgot about anything about these lessons.As of today my husband still knows every word from the  Hail Mary.

The Catholic Church in Zandvoort, where he had to go to confession. Memories!

This is the catholic school he attended. It's still there. He took this picture last year.

The most funniest thing, and he can still chuckle about is, when he had to go to confession.His friends were waiting outside the church. He always told the priest the same: "I was not nice to my mother, my father, my sister.I spend the money I had to put in the bag in church and spend it on candy". Then the priest would say to him;"Oh my son, you can go and God forgives you for all your sins, say your prayers". He still knows every prayer. This same Priest had abused some of the boys from the school.The priest name was Piet van Diepen. When we were in Holland last year we talked to one of his friends from those school days with the nuns.This friend  was abused by this priest for the longest time. His parents were devoted catholic and never believed him. They told him to be quiet and never tell anybody. Needless to say that he is not believing anymore either.
He never married. Thinking back about his childhood he said; "I remember as a little boy I had to go to church every Sunday. At the pulpit stood a priest in a black robe and he preached as if his life was depending on it. During this long ,long preach he screamed and ranted, his face became red, almost purple at times. As a child I thought this was so scary. He went on and on, and people in church were sitting with their heads bend in these benches. For an hour all this priest was preaching about was how bad we all had been. Everything was wrong with society, and venial sin.... We always went home perplexed and confused. More then ever I left the church so depressed, because I thought I was bad, the worst part was that I felt that God had left me with this dirty priest, that two faced son of a bitch, and my parents forced me to go to listen to this priest bull shit". I better don't repeat what more he had to say. It's very sad,very sad.
I hope that I did not offend anybody with these stories, but it's the truth.
It's better to take notice to what your children have to tell you.This friend told us, he can't understand how his parents every Sunday were able to repeat what the priest had preached in church, and forgot about him, their son.

Legacy of life.


How do we hand down the good things in Life
When sadness invades with so much strife.
There is a way, believe in ones self
The ability to achieve but not in wealth,
Gather thy feelings of Love and endure
A way of life that is more sure,
Nothing is easy be determined to try
Your legacy from the past will get you by.


Win Rainer.

Announcement of the birth of our fourth grandchild.

Today we became proud grandparents for the fourth time. Brooklyn Reese arrived in the world at 9.30 Saturday morning, January 7, 2012.
May our grandchildren and their children forever live in Peace. May your future bring only happiness. May you never have to suffer.May you never have to go through a war, like your for-fathers had to endure.May there be Peace on Earth forever, that's all I hope for.

Our four grandchildren. Saska and Sam... Madelaine and Brooklyn.

What is Hope...... What Hope means.

Hope is a bright shining light

Which keeps darkness at bay.

Hope is a gentle cold breeze,

On a hot summer day.

Hope is to remain positive

When the going gets tough

Hope is seeking more when

Others think you had enough.

Hope is dreaming of tomorrow

Hope is simmering under sorrow

Hope is sparkles when tears in our eyes

Hope is a beautiful thing 
 Beautiful things never dies.

Hope is light like a feather

Hope keeps all of us together

Hope is ubiquitous and free of cost

Hope is the last thing ever lost....

               Rays of Hope.                                                                           

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Hope you never have a broken Heart.

Hope you will always be free.

May your life be filled with Happiness, that's all I Hope for.

Hirohito&Asia's Stolen Treasures:

Japanese Atrocities: Why the world forgot all.

  World War 2 slave labor.

 What do Hitler and Hirohito have in common.   They were both romantic warlike idiots.
Accept, Hirohito got away with it.

Hirohito Mastermind of Japanese involvement in World War 2. Hitler Mastermind of German involvement in World War 2.

Hitler war criminal.He committed suicide after the defeat.

Hirohito war criminal.In the eyes of countless Japanese the Empire of the sun could never be conquered. Defeat was literally unthinkable.

Just as involved in the Pacific War as Hitler was in Europe, Hirohito worked behind the chrysanthemum curtain, and.......survived!
The West blinded by his brilliance was unable to see his murky shadows. Like a God he showed only the ivory side of his personality for the morals to see. Japan's....Holy Ghost!.

Read the book: Japan's Imperial Conspiracy.
author: David Bergamini.
published by Heinemann in 1971, London
or by: William Morrow, New York.

At the end of the war 28 men were charged with war crimes, and among them seven were hanged by the Allies after a two year trial. The seven were: Hideki Tojo, Seishiro Itagaki, Kenji Doihara, Koki Hirota, Heitaro Kimura, Akira Muto, Iwane Matsui.
The Australian, New Zealand, Dutch and Chinese officials had all agreed that the emperor Hirohito was the mastermind of Japanese involvement in the war, and should head any list of Japanese criminals responsible for the war. They later bowed to a decision by General MacArthur to use Hirohito for rehabilitation of Japan, rather than try him as a criminal.

Therefore it was not surprising that when the Tokyo Trial started, Hirohito and his imperial family ( all criminals, Japanese mafia) were off-limits to war crime prosecutors.

This is what I have to ad:

Too bad for Hitler, who was involved in Europe, committed suicide after the war. He would have been just like the emperor of Japan put on a pedestal. Like the emperor Hirohito he would have been made out as a passive, withdrawn individual, who was kept inadequately informed of his government's decisions and was in any case, unable to control the military.  Hitler would have been made out as the symbol of German patriotism but did not exercise any power of his own, merely ratifying the decisions of his ministers, just like Hirohito was made out to be.

I can hear Hitler say beyond his grave:" How stupid of me to commit suicide.

Hirohito like Hitler were romantic warlike idiots.

A Wise One We Need!

In a world where many see human life as cheap

The mothers for their dead off springs weep

Car and suicide bombers and bombs dropped from the sky

The victims of war by the hour multiply.

Though wars of the past with sadness we may recall

From the lessons of war we've not learned at all

We still give power to those who see war as okay

Who sends the troops to battle in lands far away.

The latest declared war, was based on a lie

How many more people in war zones must die?

The price of every war victory and war memorial parade

In human blood and loss of human life paid.

Due to Religion and Culture and National Pride

In terrorism and war far too many have died

We give power to idiots a wise one we need

A wise one to war us never would lead. 

by:

Francis Dungan.

Reminders of a violent past.

Next Tuesday the 10th of January; the 206th petition will be handed over to the ambassador of Japan.This demonstration is being held every second Tuesday of the month in the city of The Hague in the Netherlands in front of the Japanese embassy. Last year May I was honored to be there with my husband, my sister in law, and my cousin Toby van Driel ,who lost her father , just like me in the war against Japan and had spend her first 31/2 years with her mother(my mother's sister)like my mother and I in Japanese prison camps.
I will think about you all.In my thoughts I will be standing there with you in front of the Japanese Embassy.

mevr. E. van Kampen and I, in front of the Japanese embassy

mevr.E. van Kampen and my husband Ruud.

from left to right;Thea, Elizabeth and my cousin Toby at the demonstration in May, 2011.

Reminders of a violent past.

Slavery, Mass Murder, Torture, Lies, Misinformation and Human misery all over the Globe.

This was my father's first resting place in Kui Yae, along side the Death railway. His remains were transferred after the war to the Cemetery in Kanchanaburi in Thailand.

The issue of Japan's compensation for all the atrocities they inflicted on human beings is still an issue.

Whereas the government of Germany has formally apologized to the victims of the Holocaust and has gone to great lengths to provide financial compensation to the victims and to provide for their needs and recovery; the Government of Japan has refused to fully acknowledge the crimes it committed during World War II and to reparations to its victims.Why is this? How is it possible to get away with this?How is it possible for a country so destroyed by war to recover so quickly after the war.

After the Peace Treaty was signed by 48 nations, Japan quickly recovered. Japan ends up better of after the war then they had been before the war. They bow and smile and they keep smiling, but beware!!!

This country was led by a ruthless emperor Hirohito,the entire Royal family was linked to the largest gangster family.The whole world wanted to see this family trialed for their war atrocities.They were war criminals, and every single member of this family was never punished.
How come? Well read the rest of my story.

During WWII the Japanese Imperial Army systematically looted all the conquered Asian countries of their national treasures.(gold, silver, precious stones/gems, golden statues, diamonds, etc.etc.)

General Mac'Arthur learns about these treasures and the United States made a secret deal with Hirohito.

These looted treasures were worth over $100 billion.

So a deal was made and all these Royal Family war criminals go free.Now the US had to start an image make over for all the leaders in Japan, and all of these war criminals went right back into the government of Japan.They were made out as innocent and peace full people, who had been puppets on a string.This propaganda did it's job, as long as the media helped. What a betrayal and how well this was staged...    "What good fortune for governments, that the people do not think".That's what Hitler said. But I am glad that he was not right, because no matter how long it will take the truth will surface. 

They should have named the peace treaty the betrayal treaty, this treaty was signed by 48 countries.Thousands and thousands of their country men died,and so many suffered from the atrocities inflicted on them in the hands of these Japanese.Even after the war these men could never forget.They suffered from war traumas.

In 1941 it became impossible for the Japanese to transfer the bullion to Japan by ship due to submarine activity in the South China Sea. So much of the treasures were hidden in the Phillippines by Prins Chichibu in tunnels and caves.Golden Lily was the code name given to a project instigated by the Japanese Imperial family.For the next two and a half years deep caverns and intricate tunnel networks were dug by prisoners of war to store the treasure. When each site was completed, the prisoners were either murdered or buried alive with the treasure.Even their own Japanese soldiers, who were guards, were killed.The Emperor motto:

Steal all,Burn all, kill all. 

How can one forget all.


Prince's Takeda,( Hirohito's cousin) and Chicibu,(the younger brother of Hirohito), were sealing of the tunnels and over seeing the final inventory of the treasure sites.100 billions of dollars were laying in Tokyo Bay and are deposited in banks all around the world. These ships were sunk on purpose and all Japanese men on board were shot by their own people as they tried to climb on board of these submarines.

After the war American intelligence agents tortured the driver of General Yamashita and discovered the locations of 12 major sites. Instead of returning the treasures to its rightful owners the American government kept the recoveries secret..They used the precious metals to fight communism called the "Black Eagle Trust"  and set up funds in multiple international bank accounts.

The Vatican were involved as well as the gold filled their bank accounts and further enabled the brainwashing of billions of so called Christians.What fools we are.

The Japanese made recoveries in secret as well. In the mid 80's they came back to the Philippines and under guise of friendship they built parks, roads, and schools. Buying various plots of land for corporate exploitation they were able to recover portions of the Lily at their convenience.Ships sunk by the Japanese in the Tokyo Bay were relocated and the loot brought to the surface.

In the book of Sterling and Peggy Seagrave;

They expose the extent to which Washington and Tokyo collaborated to keep this secret and deceive the world into thinking the fighting had left Japan too poor to compensate its victims meaningfully. It also reveals that people involved in Hirohito's exoneration of war crimes including General MacArthur and former US president Herbert Hoover-walked away from the occupation with huge amounts of gold. Gold bullion were deposited in 176 banks in 42 countries.

In 1954 The Bilderberg group held its first meeting. The Bilderberg group was founded by Prince Bernhard of the Netherlands and former officer in the SS. Bernhard had also worked in I.G Farben's notorious NW7 group, which served as spies for the Third Reich.Bernard was appointed to govern the Dutch order in 1954. John Foster Dulles was reported to have been one of the most helpful Americans in establishing the Bilderberg group. In 1954 Dulles testified in favor of a bill designed to return vested enemy assets to their previous owners....... and did it?????The Bilder group had several members of the intelligence community associated with it.Sir Collin Gubbins, Britain's wartime SOE head, was a founding member. Walter Bedell Smith was a co-chairman of the group in the US.

I can go on and on, it is mind buggling, what I have read.
Read; gold.grey falcon.us/gold10.html

 Over the years, numerous right wing groups have aided and abetted the CIA by laundering plundered items from the Golden Lily.

England gold reserve's were extremely low before the war. The war had been an additional drain on those reserves. However in 1954, just nine years short of the end of the war, England acquired enough supply of gold to reopen the bullion market.??????

Some of the money of this bounty ended up lining the pockets of Hoover and MacArthur.

Millions of war victims went without any form of compensation to this day.


When Herbert Hoover died, his son had to get permission from the America Treasury to sell US$100 million in gold bullion that was in his father's bank account.
General MacArthur had an account with millions of dollars in it at the Hong Kong branch of the Sanwa Bank. He held this account jointly with the emperor Hirohito of Japan.

If that isn't collusion at the highest level.......

These are only a few excerpts from the book.

Please read the book from the Seagraves; GOLD WARRIORS. .

The sad part is that all these people, so cruelly treated, and those who have been deformed, during the terrible war with Japan, were simply cheated; very often by their own governments.

I hope that a day will come that the war victims or their descendants will get what they should have had all along, which is;

"JUSTICE!"

I hope my father and my mother are resting in peace.

I am very grateful that they do not know about this.

Dedicated to my Mom and Dad.

First of all I have to thank every one for following my story on my blog.I wish you all a Happy New Year with lots of health ,Love and Peace.
For all my Indonesian friends; Selamat Tahun Baru!(means Happy New Year) The country my Mom and Dad loved so much.
I only started this blog in February 2010 and to see that so many people are reading it gives me the inspiration to continue.

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It is interesting to know how many people all over the world are reading my story.I wish my mother would know. She kept silent. She had to work it out all alone.How hard it must have been for her.Mom your story is being told, you and your sister can rest in peace.

As a child I was never able to discuss my experiences, which were in my head. My mother always silenced me, and said that I had to forget about these dreams. For many years I did not understand.She always kissed me and said she would kiss the dreams away. Why did I have these things in my head and why did my mother always told me that I dreamed it?.. I knew I had not dreamed it , but I could not figure it out. She always told me that these dreams would go away," don't think about it anymore"she said.
I started to believe her.And what could a five year old remember from those horrible days???The days that my mother got whipped by these Japanese men and was bleeding.How can a child of 4-5 years old remember?Well let me tell you that I know now that a five year old can remember, although it is very vague.It's the horrible things you remember.They are forever there, and when you are a child adults can easy tell you that they were dreams.I can even describe and draw the Japanese prison camp in Moentilan.There was one building I could so vividly describe to her. I told her about a church I could remember,and people crying. I remembered my mother coming out that church throwing up and bleeding. She fell, she told me.After the war when we were liberated they took my mother to a hospital, she barely survived and  I was taken  to an orphanage. It took her three months to recover. For many years I told her the same story that I went looking for her and that I had run away, and when they found me after searching for hours the nuns tried to feed me some porridge, which I refused to eat. One of the nuns threw the plate with porridge right over my head. I must have screamed bloody murder.I wanted to be with my mother. I did not like it there.I still see the building in my mind, it had these big large pillars on which the orphanage was build and it was there they had found me fast asleep.When I was older my mother told me that she would never forget how insisted I was about this.It surprised her, she told me, and she said I tried so hard to let you forget all the bad things that had happened there.

When my mother passed away in 2003, and I found all these letters and photographs, I started to put things together.I was stunned at first, and it broke my heart:

All I knew is what you said

     You told me it was not so bad!

             When I found the pouch with letters,

      I realized why to me, it matters.

       The things I read froze my blood

          The tears I shed were like a flood.

I would burst out in tears just like that, for every little thing, when we talked about my mother.I think there are so many emotions bottled up. A child of only 4 or 5 years old can remember,specially when things are happening to their mother.But when you are young it is easy to put it aside.You are too busy to discover the world.You play with your friends, you grow up, and things what happened when you were 5 years old are pushed in the background.You believe that they were bad dreams, that is what my mother always told me. Even when I was older and I asked my mother about these dreams, I believed her."How come I always dream about the same things mom", I would ask.Well, my mother would say, you were in a camp and there were some bad man there, but it was not too bad. My mother tried so hard to let me forget.I started to feel for some reason that it was hurting my mother when I asked her about these Japanese camps. She became very quiet and asked me not to talk about it anymore.

But I know now that all that happened to my mother in these Japanese camps had serious consequences on the rest of her life. Even after the war, the struggle to cope was not over. The unimaginable brutality these women endured at the hands of the Japanese in these camps, trying to take care of their children with hardly any food to give them, has haunted her for the rest of her life.
I hope she rest in Peace.
Mom I have to let you know, that the women in South Korea, who survived the atrocities which were inflicted on them by the Japanese, had the courage to put up a monument in front of the Japanese Embassy.
But the Japanese government are cowards and have closed all windows and doors of the Japanese embassy in Seoul, so they do not have to see the truth, and  they continue to lobby for removal of this statue. I wish more statues would sit in front of each Japanese embassy all over the world. They have long enough pretended that this has not happened in World War 2.
It finally will be heard all over the world. Just like the holocaust and Anne Frank.Everybody knows about that. The silence about what happened in these Japanese prison camps has lasted too long.

Happy times, before the Japanese invaded the Dutch East Indies(now called Indonesia)  

My Mom on the right, 5 month pregnant from me.

This is the back of the picture on which my father wrote:

This is in front of our house
Siets (my mom) is standing with her head
right in front of bedroom.
The door with the glass window next to it
is our front room (sitting room)
behind the bedroom is another bedroom
and behind the front room is the living room.
Doesn't look bad, uh?

My mom in the middle, my dad on the right. Don't know who the other lady is. This is at their house in Bandoeng, Tjikoerailaan 7, Java.

                                                      I read this some while ago;

Its written by a 14 year old, his name is Alexander La Ponte.

War creates fighting that kills everyone.

War creates hate where love should be...

War creates tears that will never dry away....

War creates pain that won't go away...

War creates sadness that won't feel better...

War creates destruction that will take too long to fix...

War blinds us of what's right or wrong

War steals us of the right to be happy and young..War creates gaps that keep us apart....

War creates a fire you can't put out....

War drops bombs on our hopes and dreams.

War creates children without  a father , no one to tuck them in at night...

War makes it hard for a parent to say "everything will be alright",

when they don't even have anyone to say to"goodnight"'

War scares a child's mind with things they can't erase

War makes a goodnight sleep, a living hell.....

War creates nightmares that are never-ending dreams, and then, just screams...

War creates quilt that eats you alive inside....

War makes you see things that makes you scream inside.....

War creates scars when all you've seen is blood and more......

War only leaves death when every body drops to the floor.....

War creates silence after it ends, so how long till it starts again?

And when all the willing that will fight, die and say their last goodnight.

The war will end, the living will mourn, all for Peace but what was it all for?

For all those people who died, just so now everyone alive, can do nothing to cope, but cry......