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One-Eyed Man is King, Reversing the Chain of Command in Counter-Insurgency Operations

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03.13.2022 at 01:19am

One-Eyed Man is King, Reversing the Chain of Command in Counter-Insurgency Operations

By Erwin Bieri

Introduction

Roughly from 1816 until the start of World War I, the Netherlands East Indies Colonial Army, later renowned as Koninklijk Nederlandsch Indisch Leger (KNIL)[1], continuously battled local factions in the Indonesian archipelago. As part of the colonial power structure, the KNIL focused on the conquest of territory and, in other cases, the fights targeted insurgents and other groups who did not want to serve under colonial rule[2]. All those years, the majority of the Netherlands forces involved, gained valuable expertise in fighting this type of war. The Netherlands East Indies Decolonization War of 1945-1950 (or “Independence War” as the Indonesian nationalist freedom fighters called it), with a vast contribution of the Netherlands Marine Corps Brigade (MARBRIG), was one of the last large scale irregular warfare operations of the Netherlands forces in the East-Indies[3], with the West New Guinea Dispute of 1950-1962 being the very last[4].

According to a 1945 quote of Dutch Prime Minister Wim Schermerhorn, the Dutch contribution to the colonial war has largely been framed in terms of “restoring peace, order and security”[5]. As stated by Schermerhorn the Netherlands forces fight against the evil that the nationalist Indonesian uproar represented was virtuous. He solely painted the Dutch as virtuous. However, Schermerhorn omitted to look at the complex situation of the soldiers and marines from native Indonesian and half-blooded Indo-European descent, who fought for the Netherlands interests in the Dutch East Indies. The history of minority groups in the Dutch East Indies Colonial War has been neglected and only a limited scholarship in this area has focused on telling these groups’ stories. 

This article highlights the special services employees of the Netherlands Marine Corps Brigade, called Employés Speciale Diensten (ESD), who were locally recruited as interpreters, interrogators and informants for its intelligence and security service. They became invaluable assets for operations, and even dictated the courses of action within the chain of command. Through examining the story of the ESDs, beginning in 1945 and continuing into the post-colonial war era, we hope to delve further into the racial and organizational dynamics that spanned the war and demonstrate how this affected both the ESD and the Marine Corps Brigade’s war experiences. Although the ESD’s contribution during the war has been of significant importance, and ESD members were unit-wise praised for their commitment and dedication, at the end of the war the Netherlands policymakers had forgotten about them, which led to a poor reintegration in postcolonial Dutch society. Unlike their Marine Corps colleagues, the ESDs did not receive formal praise for their efforts. This, by no means helped unseat much of the entrenched prejudice. Instead of being respected and thanked, the ESDs were spited, accused, and were regarded with contempt because of allegations of torture and maltreatment of prisoners of war. As a result, it was not until 40 years later that they received some recognition by declaring them formally “military veterans”[6]. The ESDs role during the East Indies campaign of the Netherlands Marine Corps Brigade was one of key significance by contributing convincingly to the planning and execution of operations. To date, few studies have examined the role of ESDs during the Dutch Decolonization War of 1945-1950. The aim of this article is to evaluate the story of the ESD operative during the MARBRIG involvement in the East Indies and in the postcolonial era after the proclaimed Republic of Indonesia reached official independence on the 27th of December 1949. We are to emphasizing the major influence on the planning process of military operations and demonstrate how their contribution reversed the chain of command in counter-insurgency operations.  The question studied in this article is about unleashing violence in a decolonization war and is three-fold.  First of all, how was indigenous violence cultivated and made an instrument of colonial powers? Secondly, how could this violence effectively be used against opponents deploying counter-insurgency tactics? Thirdly, how did authorities evade responsibility for the violence they themselves unleashed and how did they shift responsibility to low-level executives.

This article first gives a brief overview of the recent history of the Netherlands colonies in the East Indies and the racial dynamics that spanned the war. It will continue with a discussion about the Netherlands Marine Corps Brigade and its security service, followed by an introduction into the recruitment and functioning of ESD operatives. The impact on the chain of command is analyzed in this part of the article. The final part assesses the outcome of the MARBRIGs counter-insurgency operations, by integrating documented ESD performances with texts and interviews from the perspectives of commanding officers, marines and former ESDs themselves.

The question studied in this article is about unleashing violence in a decolonization war and is three fold.  First of all, how was indigenous violence cultivated and made an instrument of colonial powers? Secondly, how could this violence effectively be used against opponents deploying counter-insurgency tactics? Thirdly, how did authorities evade responsibility for the violence they themselves unleashed and how did they shift responsibility to low-level executives

Method and sources

In this study, a triangulation of methods was applied. First of all, we made use of several archives such as the archives of the National Library and those of the Marine Corps Museum. From the Royal Netherlands Institute of Southeast Asian and Caribbean Studies (KITLV) we could retrieve interviews from its Oral History Archive Indonesia. The most interesting archive however concerned the files of military and civilians who are no longer in active service in Kerkrade. These files of the Ministry or Defence concern a large part of the population of the Netherlands over the past 100 years. By combining the data from these files, we knew what happened to the soldiers, and we were able to track down the last three ESD veterans who still lived in the Netherlands in 2019. These former operators we interviewed, just as some of the former marines who worked with them during the Decolonization War. The interviews were semi-structured and conducted in 2019. Methodological biases may be present because of memory loss or loose interpretation of the truth, but on the other hand, the veterans were well aware that they would not be sued for their candid narrative, if only because of their age. Many saw this as a last opportunity to tell the full story.

Historical Genesis of the KNIL Chain of Command

The Netherlands East Indies Colonial Army was organized in a traditional top-down fashion, but the circumstances in 1945 did force the organization to improvise regarding recruitment, education and much more. The organization had to be built from scratch on, and all service members were physically and psychologically scarred from previous conflict. Holding on to the traditional chain of command in fact was quaint.

During World War II in the South-East Asian Theater, the young men, born in the colonial Dutch East Indies of the 1920s, experienced more than one can imagine. They fought the Japanese invaders of the Dutch East Indies until 8 March 1942 when they were subsequently Prisoners of War (POW) in Japan, Siam, or Burma, or interned in one of the camps in the Dutch East Indies archipelago until August 1945. At the end of the war colonial order was not restored, but instead an Indonesian nationalist strive for independence had ignited aggression towards their former colonial overlords. The formal declaration of Indonesian independence on the 17th of August 1945, marked the start of the diplomatic and armed resistance of the Indonesian national revolution, fighting against the forces of the Netherlands and pro-Dutch civilians, until the latter formally acknowledged Indonesia’s independence on the 27th of December 1949[7].

It was not until 1946 that the first wave of Dutch War Volunteers, who were shipped from post-World War II Netherlands to the East Indies, arrived there. British forces that were already present on the archipelago, prior to any other allied nation, were initially reluctant to admit entrance to the Netherlands forces. Due to the Indonesian proclamation of Independence and the outburst of a civil war, decolonization violence and general unrest, the British temporary governance in the East Indies was afraid that the arrival of Dutch forces would ignite more tension[8]. To protect released Dutch and native POWs, returnees from camps, and the interned Dutch Indies civil population on Java, the Brits chose to re-install the defeated Japanese military forces to protect these camps; thus, the former invaders became camp guards in 1945. The temporary Japanese guards, who already surrendered in 1945 and longed to return to Japan, were not fully suited to protect the camps[9]. From this period on, until the arrival of the first Dutch military contingent in 1946, a considerable number of the Dutch and pro-Dutch native population became casualty of horrendous Indonesian extremist violence.

Between 1945 and 1946, prior to the arrival of military forces from the Netherlands, thousands of former POWs from the colonial army (KNIL), who were physically starved, exhausted, and mentally traumatized due to grueling war experiences, returned from prisoner camps in Japan, Burma and other outer East Indies areas, to the isle of Java. Among the isles of Sumatra, Bali, Lombok, the Moluccas, Borneo and many other territories, the isle of Java used to be a pre-war colonial paradise and home for most of the former POWs. Upon setting foot on their native soil, they faced hostilities from their former indigenous co-inhabitants who craved for independence. The previously released former POWs were regarded as the first Dutch-led military contribution[10] in the East Indies. Although lacking military training, equipment, organization, and logistics, they were able to set up small units to protect the endangered Dutch population in the camps. These units were called Harer Majesteits Ongeregelde Troepen (HAMOT; Her Majesty’s Irregular Troops)[11]. As more former POWs returned from captivity, the KNIL was gradually reinstated in its formal role as military force that the Netherlands maintained in the East Indies. As the majority of its personnel were recruits from one of the many islands of the Dutch East Indies archipelago, or European volunteers with a pre-war long-term contract in the colonies, ties with the colony were very strong. Almost every KNIL soldier spoke one or more of the local languages and was very familiar with the country and its population. Since this familiarity had its origin in the archipelago itself, it also made the situational awareness of the military situation quite easy. Members of KNIL units could easily adapt to the environment and gain valuable information about enemy activities and courses of action, for their own security and planning and execution of operations[12].

Organizing the Security Service within the Marine Corps Brigade

In November and December 1945, a little more than 4,000 Dutch Marines and all their equipment shipped out of Norfolk, Va., aboard seven Dutch ships directly for the Netherlands East Indies. The newly recruited marines had left the United States, after they graduated from their 3 months training by their American counterparts of the United States Marine Corps (USMC)[13]. Although initially destined to fight in the Pacific, they were no longer going to fight against the Japanese and, at the time, were unsure of the encounter awaiting them in the East Indies. The reception would turn out to be a four-year-long counterinsurgency war. After a temporary stay in Malacca, the major contingent of the Marine Corps Brigade debarked onto East Java, at the harbor of the city of Surabaya, on 10 March 1946. Most of the Netherlands marines were Dutch-born men who were teenagers during the German occupation of Holland and were anxious to serve after the German and Japanese surrender of 1945. Nearly all of the marines, whether professional soldiers, war volunteer or conscripted, chose for voluntarily military deployment to the East Indies[14].

Upon arrival in the East Indies, the MARBRIG lacked current intelligence of the local situation on East Java. With help of temporarily attached KNIL-soldiers[15], operational information about enemy activities, friendly forces, and safe areas, became available. Members of the newly formed Veiligheidsdienst Mariniersbrigade (VDMB), the security service of the Marine Corps Brigade[16], who were responsible for gathering military intelligence about the local situation in the area, hastily tried to figure out how to develop “situational awareness” by themselves. The vast Indonesian archipelago required the Marine Corps Brigade to split up into smaller units. Although intelligence services operated on all levels of military activity, the center of gravity in the East Indies was downsized to company and platoon level[17]. Robert Groenewoud, a retired Marine Corps Brigade officer and one of the first commanders of the VDMB, remembers: “my commanding officer gave order to establish an operational intelligence entity with a specific territorial focus. Integration of best practices from KNIL and NEFIS[18] intelligence organizations became my blueprint for the VDMB. The initial group of VDMB personnel consisted of war volunteers with ties in the East Indies, they were extreme passionate about their work[19].”

During boot camp in the US, the initial training plan of the MARBRIG encompassed a comprehensive curriculum with classes, films, and presentations of South-East Asia, in order to motivate as much as possible officers, NCOs and marines to become “Indies-minded”, with sufficient knowledge of the local language. Unfortunately, this plan failed and only a very small number of marines spoke the local Malayan language. Due to the complexity of the local situation, the VDMB learned that the best way of gathering valuable intelligence was to set up a network system of local informants, spies, and defectors[20]. Next to this, interrogators and interpreters became an extremely important asset in order to acquire information from captured Indonesian insurgents.

It was obvious that the VDMB lacked personnel with any knowledge of the local Asian culture, its languages, and the areas on the isle of Java. This non-familiarity with the country and its population, and the withdrawal of the temporary attached KNIL personnel to the MARBRIG, became a heartfelt cry from marine officers at the tactical and operational level to their highest commanders. On the 16th of February 1946, the Commandant of the Netherlands Marine Corps Brigade, Colonel M.R. De Bruyne, sent a telegram to the Commandant of the Royal Netherlands Navy[21] in East Asia, to express his concerns about the lack of personnel with knowledge of language, country, and population in these regions[22]. One of the solutions that Colonel M.R. De Bruyne put forward was to transfer those marines who were born in the East Indies and recruited in the pre-war colony of 1941-1942, and due to their native soil characterized as “sons of the country”, to the operational MARBRIG units and the VDMB.

“Sons of the Country”, outsiders filling in organizational weaknesses

Marines and navy personnel, recruited between 1941 and 1942 in Surabaya, were among the last enlisted military in the East Indies, prior to the Japanese invasion. With a minimum of military training, these service members became part of the hastily established Naval Battalion that fought the invading and advancing Japanese troops in March 1942. The battalion unit roster contained a total of 448 servicemen, of whom 228 were marines[23]. The battalion fought fiercely in an unequal battle against superior Japanese military power. On March 19, 1942, three weeks after its creation, the Navy battalion was disbanded, and nearly all of its members went into Japanese captivity. At the end of 1945, after the Japanese surrender, fifteen of the marines of the Naval battalion had died as POWs[24]. To facilitate Colonel De Bruynes urgent request to transfer former POWs and marines of the Naval Battalion (1941-1942) to operational units of the Marine Corps Brigade, the Commandant of the Royal Netherlands Navy approved the request[25]. After pre-selection, a number of 64 marines[26] were identified as “fit for duty” and transferred to units of the Marine Corps Brigade. Although most of the selected marines did not complete a full military training previously, the high intensity of the conflict in the East Indies dictated that the lack of this formal military education was not of importance[27]. The majority of these marines were selected for frontline units and a few of them were attached to operational VDMB detachments. Although the number of native marines from the Naval Battalion seems sufficient to fill the ranks with expert knowledge of the language, country, and its surroundings, it is striking that no one was actually recruited as interpreter, interrogator, or informant. The operational MARBRIG detachments still lacked “eyes and ears” for their operations. Because the marines of the former Naval Battalion were embedded in the operational units as riflemen or squad leaders, most of the operational and tactical units on the outposts, were still looking for “alternate local sources of information”.

Adapting to the Environment and Recruiting the ESD Operative

At the Marine Corps Brigade Headquarters in Surabaya, decisions were made to recruit young men from Surabaya, who voluntarily wanted to operate at the outposts of marine units, and who were familiar with the area of operations and its local languages and cultural habits. The main task of these “Employés Speciale Diensten” (ESDs) was to serve as embedded interpreters and patrol members in platoon size operations. They were native militarized operators and part of the VDMB detachments that served as territorial intelligence squads[28]. As a result of the confidential atmosphere of its existence, no formal recruitment program was set up to stimulate local youngsters to apply for the vacancies. Solely by word of mouth, local boys and men were informed about the job. In an interview[29], Martin Sambeka, a former ESD operative for the MARBRIG, spoke about his experience of recruitment.

He recounted, “The search for reliable young men, with multi-lingual skills and native background, came by oral information. Due to the secretive nature of its service, nothing was formalized by paperwork or advertisements”. Richard L. Klaessen[30], a former Japanese prison camp internee from Surabaya, who successfully applied for one of the ESD vacancies in 1946, recalls: “as a driver for the Navy I had to deliver messages at the MARBRIG Headquarters, and there was rumor about the need for young men who spoke one or more of the local languages and who were familiar with the environment. I thought that this was very interesting”. The majority of the ESD recruits had no formal military background prior to the proclamation of the Indonesian republic in 1945. Most of them had been interned on the isle of Java during the Japanese occupation of the East Indies or had suffered elsewhere as POWs in Japanese occupied territories in Asia. Motivation to join and serve in the armed forces was diverse. Richard Klaessen had lied about his age to join the Royal Netherlands Navy in 1945, “I had just turned 15 and wanted to do my share of serving and liberate my family members and friends who still suffered under the threats of the Indonesian nationalists, as soon as possible.” Few potential ESD recruits were actively approached to join. After the Japanese occupation, R.F. Walian served as officer in the Indonesian Navy ALRI (Angkatan Laut Republic Indonesia) and became prisoner of the Netherlands forces after his ship was attacked. He explains[31]: “I was interrogated by both KNIL forces and members of the NEFIS. Soon after, it was the VDMBs turn to talk with me. The first interrogation came with severe blows to the head, until the interrogator discovered I was educated at Netherlands schools and spoke the Dutch language fluently. The commander of the interrogation detachment evaluated me and labeled me “innocent”, so on the 16th of August 1946, I was recruited as ESD operative.”     

Motivation, Antecedents and Training of ESD Recruits

Despite the variety of backgrounds for joining the ESD community, the common objective of almost every member was to contribute to the war efforts of the Netherlands to stop Indonesian nationalist violence against the Dutch and Indo-European community. Different from the Netherlands expeditionary forces, which were sent to the East Indies from postwar liberated European soil, the ESD operatives had more in-depth personal motivations to fight the Indonesian opponents. Born in the pre-war East Indies and enjoying the advantages of the colonial society by belonging to the middle or upper class, many ESD members experienced their youngster lives as fabulous. For generations, their ties with Asian soil were built on family lines, contribution to economic development, participating in social activities and employing the indigenous population as their servants and laborers. The Japanese invasion of the East Indies in 1942 catalyzed native Indonesian nationalism and disrupted centuries of Dutch colonial rule. In addition, during both the Japanese occupation and the following nationalist revolution, the ESD operatives had lost family members by atrocities of both Japanese soldiers and Indonesian nationalist fighters.  The majority of ESD members had earlier been subject to deadly violence themselves. Motivation to join the military forces was fueled by a desire for revenge but also by a desire to restore peace and colonial rule. Prior to enlistment in the Navy, Richard Klaessen was imprisoned at the infamous” Werfstraatgevangenis” in Surabaya[32]. Along with 2,380 other inmates of Indo-European origin, he suffered under severe abuse by Indonesian mobs, who took the prisoners from the streets because of revolutionary leader Sutomo’s encouragement “to conduct atrocities to every person of European or Indo-European ancestry[33].” Moments before execution, the inmates were liberated by Dutch led members of the British Indian Army. “After liberation from the revolutionaries, I wanted some compensation for the things they did to us. Joining the military seemed a logical way to do this.” A small number of native ESD operatives had applied for the job in the firm belief that this would help them to climb the social ladder, once colonial rule was restored.

Because the MARBRIG operated in the vicinity of Surabaya, recruitment, selection, and training of ESDs was concentrated at the MARBRIG Headquarters in the city of Surabaya. Between 1946 and 1949, a number of approximately 180 ESDs[34] had been recruited and were operational on outposts and staff units of the MARBRIG, located in the eastern part of the isle of Java. The selection process started with an interview of the applicant with one of the few VDMB intelligence-officers of the MARBRIG. Language skills and references were checked, as well as motivation for the job. The process was limited in time and focused on hands-on tasks. Report-writing and translating abilities were evaluated in an operational setting. As one ESD operative remembers, “after the interview with Captain (…) I was escorted to a cell to interrogate a native prisoner. As part of the selection, I was ordered to gain as much information as possible. No word about interrogation techniques or so. The results of the interrogation were written in a report that was checked by a VDMB member. After a few days I received notice that the MARBRIG had accepted me and that I had to report for operational duty.”

Because of limited training resources in Surabaya, only a few of the ESDs had the opportunity to receive some military training. A former ESD operative reflects on his military training in Surabaya[35]: “I learned to shoot several rifles and a machine-gun in a crash-course. Theory and practice behind interrogation techniques were conducted by a traineeship at the NEFIS. During my two months of temporary employment there, I heard and saw horrible things. Actually, I am still not allowed to talk about that. After this assignment I was regarded fit for duty.” Once an applicant was recruited, the Personnel officer (S1) of the MARBRIG, not being the formal appointing authority[36], formalized the mutual agreement by signing a fixed-term contract[37] as Employés Speciale Diensten. Robert Groenewoud explains: “at the end, we had a fifty-fifty ratio of ESD operatives to VDMB marines.” Although ESDs became full member of a platoon- or squadsize operational MARBRIG unit, the necessary additional military training was “hands-on” and “on-the-job” at the outposts.

Operations and ESD Performance: Reversing the Chain of Command

As recruitment, selection, and training of ESD operatives seem less professionalized at the initial stage of their employment, participation and performance during military operations was of opposite nature. Lacking military training, the majority of the ESDs were assigned to units at tactical outposts. From the start of their tour, the ESDs had to familiarize with the marines of their platoon. A platoon size unit that consisted of 30 to 35 marines occupied every outpost. Each platoon had a subordinate small detachment of 2 to 6 members of the VDMB, including the ESDs. The actual size of the VDMB unit depended on the number and intensity of enemy activities in the Area of Operations (AO). The ESDs were the sole entity on the outpost that had the cultural and linguistic expertise to operate with, among and against the local population. Only in case of personal protection, the other marines were nearby during missions. On grounds of the discrete and confidential nature of the VDMBs intelligence task, the VDMB units were co-located in the vicinity of their platoons of origin. The fact that there was a physical distance between the “combat platoon” and the intelligence unit, on one hand, simplified the approachability of local people to talk to ESD personnel. On the other hand, mostly during interrogation of detainees, seclusion and discretion facilitated the VDMBs autonomous position. Main task of the platoons was to patrol the AO and to gain information about activities of the Indonesian insurgents. “Learning by doing” was the common statement for newcomers, and ESD operatives joined tactical patrols soon after arrival. “The marines did not regard us as equal members of the Marine Corps but respected our performances”, Martin Sambeka recalls. In an interview[38], former ESD operative Ferry Onsoe explains that “there was a close-knit brotherhood between Dutch marines and ESDs. At the frontline, the marines had a great deal of respect for us.” Cor Visser, retired Warrant Officer and former VDMB member of the MARBRIG, added: “we fully trusted the ESDs on their linguistic and cultural skills, and the information they came up with, but once there was fighting to be done, we (the marines) took over the operation.” Gathering tactical and operational intelligence was the highest priority since the eastern part of Java suffered under severe enemy activities. The ESDs performed tasks which we today label as “Human Intelligence (HUMINT)” operations. Getting in close touch with leaders of local villages, winning “hearts and minds”, recruiting spies and informants, and interrogating suspects and detained insurgents. The physical Asian appearance of all ESD operators enabled “covert” operations. It remained the rule rather than the exception that operators dressed as local civilians to enter villages and crowds in the AO to collect information about people, terrain, and enemy activities. Danger was always involved. Giovanni Hakkenberg, retired Netherlands Marine Corps (RNLMC) Captain and recipient of the Netherlands’ highest and most prestigious personal military decoration for acts of valor[39] during the East Indies war, reflects on his experiences of covert missions as VDMB member and with ESD operatives: “the local population was the most important source of information. There was a very strong basis of trust between my local informants and me. This, I learned the hard way. It was necessary to listen to the local villagers and try to help them. This bond was very important because there was no money to pay them for their services. They were extreme loyal and would die for the Dutch cause. I used to operate at night, dressed as a local civilian. Everywhere we operated, the enemy fled the territory. This stimulated the level of trust between the marines and the local people.” In a letter[40] to the Minister of Defence, former marines express their admiration and gratitude for the indispensable and valuable deployment of ESD operatives. “…They were fully integrated as VDMB members; soon they demonstrated their value as eyes and ears of the patrol commander, always operating at the frontlines, always walking point. Their knowledge of country and people saved many lives. Just the slightest change of attitude of the villagers made the ESDs aware of a possible ambush. Their job involved more danger than basic marine activities. They always performed at the front as scouts. When the operatives executed covert infiltration activities, they were aware that, once compromised as working for the MARBRIG, they could expect a horrible fate.”

As ESD operatives were part of the intelligence cell of small units, they were fundamental entities for the operational planning process on all levels of military action. Since all forms of human interaction was the sole source of information, commanders fully relied on them. While operational and tactical intelligence used to be of time sensitive value, crosschecking information with help of other sources was rare. Thus, the information available from a specific human source, tended to be the “whole truth” for an on-scene commander on that specific moment in time. The process of collecting information, analysis, interpretation, and dissemination of intelligence on tactical outposts was short. It was not uncommon that, after an ESD operative finalized his debriefing of a human source, the collected information was directly –verbally- transferred to both the commander of the VDMB detachment and platoon commander. During operations in the field, ESD operatives solely spread their intelligence to the commander of the patrol. On the outposts, intelligence gathered by the VDMB members, was short-lived in time and often direct military action had to be executed. In case the intelligence was of such importance that small units on outposts could not act on it themselves, the platoon commander could request support from other units to join in company or battalion size operations. If no operation was executed on basis of the ESDs intelligence, the gathered information was sent to a higher level in the chain of command. Despite the fact that valuable intelligence came from the level of single ESD operatives, the value and reliability of the information was hardly questioned. Cor Visser recalls: “the ESD operatives were boys from the country of which we (Dutch marines) could learn much. They had the knowledge of the country, environment, and behavior of our opponents. We fully relied on them, we had to while there was no one else around with those skills. Our lives depended on them.” While ESD operatives in VDMB detachments operated on the platoon level and gained intelligence for their outfit, next higher commanders on the company level also relied on their output. More rule than exception these commanders followed the ESDs assessments blindly as well. “When the intelligence people of my platoons came up with valuable information about enemy concentrations, I did not hesitate to activate the whole company to act on that intelligence”, retired MARBRIG major and former Operations officer Georges Ballieux remembers. “What could I do? I did not have any other assets of information, and those boys were good.”

Conducting operations on platoon- and company size level was no rare commodity during war in the East Indies. Although the majority of operations did not exceed the size of 35 to 50 or between 100 to 120 marines, battalion level operations totaling more than 600 marines were executed as well. On the 20th of July 1947, the Dutch military forces executed a major offensive on the isles of Java and Sumatra, with the intent of conquering the republican government. This operation was labeled as “Police Action” in order to restore law and order. The MARBRIG conducted operations in East Java and was very successful in reaching their goals. ESD operatives had a major contribution in the successful outcome of the actions but, due to political reasons, the operation was stopped. As ESD operatives were a rare commodity and an extreme valuable asset, they were sometimes detached to other units that patrolled high-priority areas. Martin Sambeka recalls that he was ordered to support operations of the Dutch Special Forces regiment, the Green Caps: “The unit acted solely on basis of my information. Once I came up with the results of my interrogations, the captain immediately conducted an operation. I tried the best I could to have reliable output, but honestly, sometimes I was wrong. By the way, I really understand why those Green Caps have such a notorious reputation.” These examples give a clear representation of a “reversal of the chain of command” during military operations. The highly educated and often youthful officer (or NCO) depended fully on the information of his single-source informant who had the cultural and social awareness of the country. Loyalty to the cause, integrity, ethics, and objective analysis of the information, were not questioned in terms of ESD performances.

Combat Motivation and Allegations of Excess Violence

The eagerness, fanaticism, and unmanageable drive to destroy their enemy, led to a severe violent execution of military operations. Especially the indigenous KNIL soldiers had a reputation of using excessive violence on the insurgents. The ESD operators might, for a diversity of reasons, even surpass the KNIL soldiers in cruelty. Reversing the chain of command, as in this study is the case, exonerated the ESD operators from liability. They were, from their exalted position of the one-eyed king, bestowed with impunity.

The MARBRIG operated alongside regular units of the Royal Netherlands Army, which filled the ranks with war volunteers and conscripts from Holland, and the KNIL, consisting of former POWs and professional soldiers from the East Indies colony itself. The latter, being the colonial military force with a more than 200 years legacy of fighting for the Dutch overseas interests, recruited nearly all of its soldiers from the East Indies itself. The military cadre initially came from the Netherlands, but non-commissioned officers were later recruited from the indigenous ranks as well. KNIL soldiers were among the more successful, but also feared military units during the Independence War. Their reputation can partly be explained by the fact that these soldiers were fighting for their own soil, but also against their “own people”. Losing the Independence War could lead to severe consequences for them.

The psychology of the colonized and their path to liberation has been well analyzed by Frantz Fanon (1963). More than a decade after Indonesia’s independence, Fanon bore singular insight into the rage of colonized peoples and the role of violence in historical change. “Colonial rule is the bringer of violence into the home and into the mind of the native (1963: 38).” Fanon even asserts that violence is the “natural state” of colonial rule (1963: 61). For the colonial population, freeing themselves of colonialism through violence can be a cathartic experience. For Fanon, this term is inextricable from the colonized people’s experience of violently ridding themselves of colonial rule (1963: 42). Due to the fact that the colonized people are able to restore their self-esteem and control over their political life, the rage and urge that lead to extreme violence is unstoppable. The Indonesian freedom fighters, striving for independence, as well as their opponent indigenous soldiers, fighting for the restoration of colonial rule, both preferred to die for their own cause on their mutual beloved soil.

Swiss-Dutch historian Remy Limpach (2016) argued that indigenous forces were guilty of the use of structural violence. Just like their KNIL allies, ESD marines, with similar strong ties to East Indies soil, had the same mindset and drive to execute military operations. As ESDs were responsible for interrogation of detainees and contact with local people, they had a major amount of autonomy in performing their tasks. They could get away with anything because during interrogations they mostly operated independent and alone. Sometimes only accompanied by a fellow marine guard. As a young marine, Cor Visser attended many interrogations: “it became more than a habit that detainees were beaten during debriefings.  Just a slap in the face or kicking the body when a person was accused of lying.”

As physical contact during interrogations became a standard procedure, often more violence was used once the interrogation continued or a detainee did not cooperate. Robert Groenewoud explains one of the main problems with ESD operatives: “they all had suffered under Japanese occupation and Indonesian revolt; I had to prevent ill-considered actions by them.” Martin Sambeka had been a prisoner of the notorious Japanese Military Police, the Kempeitai. As a 16-year old teenager, he was imprisoned for 6 months and severely tortured for the possession of weapons. “I saw and experienced tortures by the Kempeitai myself. Waterboarding and hanging on arms behind my back are just simple examples of the tortures. Later on, as ESD operative for the marines, this ignited my creative methods during interrogations with suspects.” As payback torture and killings became a compensation for the sufferings that the majority of ESDs had endured between 1942 and 1946, the MARBRIG headquarters did not act on the few allegations of former detainees. Giovanni Hakkenberg confirms: “as a VDMB marine I had to control the use of violence by ESD operatives during interrogations, myself.” The autonomous position of the ESDs, and their importance during military operations resulted in a shift of moral values and norms. Richard Klaessen explains: “I was fed up with this detainee, his whole behavior and all those lies were enough, I told my colleague to shoot him, which he did”. While marines continued their operations in hostile areas, the number of indicted persons, as a result of entering small villages, varied between 2 and sometimes 30 suspects. ESD operative Martin Sambeka used his pre-war experiences to identify the hardcore terrorists from the innocent and simple peasants: “initially, I had a hard time to distinguish the poor farmer from the extremists. Luckily, I was able to reflect on my childhood experiences to recognize and diversify the dialects, features, gait, and habits of the wide range of Indonesian ethnicities. If I had the impression that the suspect was innocent, I let him go immediately, but when I was convinced that a detainee was an extremist, I started to beat him right away. Sometimes, young marines were guarding and watching while I was interrogating. To prevent those young Dutch marines to write home about “ESD operatives beating up detainees”, I only used basic physical punishments. Nevertheless, sometimes I wanted to be “in private” with my detainee, so I asked the marines to leave me alone. I can tell you that, in those cases, there were no “physical limitations” towards the prisoner and that I reflected on the methods of the Japanese Kempeitai that I experienced myself, back then.” Physical maltreatment of prisoners became an almost standardized method during interrogations.[41]

Aftermath: surreptitiously hiding away the ESD narrative of the reversed chain of command

The ESD narrative of the reversed chain of command and the excess of violence that was enabled by this reversal was surreptitiously hidden away in the aftermath of decolonization. The lack of recognition for the reversed chain of command story was caused by a diversity of factors, but finally by hiding away the ESD narratives the political, moral, and personal consequences were laid with the lower executives and taken away from the politico-military decision-making level.

After 1948, as international critique on the East Indies Independence War increased and negotiations between the Netherlands and the Indonesian republic slowly progressed, the Netherlands forces were ordered to consolidate their positions and prepare for a cease-fire of armed hostilities. The number of deployed military forces from the Netherlands had decreased since the end of 1948, after the Second Police Action. Finally, under international pressure, the Netherlands government agreed with a transfer of sovereignty on 27 December 1949. As Dutch military influence in the East Indies had to reduce, the Marine Corps Brigade reorganized and minimized its strength to a battalion size amphibious unit and prepared for a return to the Netherlands. It was formally disbanded on 7 June 1949, after 3,5 years of fighting on the isle of Java. Most of the marines who fought in the East Indies came from the Netherlands. Just a small number originated from Asian soil and were former members of the Navy battalion of the pre-war Marine units in the East Indies. The euphorious state of returning marines, encountered skepticism from their colleagues who had strong cultural and family ties with the East Indies. The latter, losing their homeland and forced to seek refuge outside Indonesia, saw their world torn apart. As a former East Indies marine explains: “I lost everything, my family, my homeland soil, where we lived for ages. We suffered and fought so hard for this country and it was all in vain. Oddly enough, I will now go to my fatherland that I only know from stories and schoolbooks.”

With the formal decolonization process and political transfer of authority in progress, the ESDs had even more challenges to face. All of the operatives were recruited for their specific cultural knowledge and language skills. They all originated from one of the Indonesian isles and were predominately native inhabitants who chose sides and joined Dutch forces during the Decolonization War. Although the newly formed Indonesian Republic encouraged some members of the formerly opposing Dutch forces to join their newly formed national military branches, ESDs were put on a “killing list” of the Indonesian intelligence service. At least four ESDs (and in some instances their families as well) were assassinated between 1949 and 1950 during a power vacuum, whereas tens of thousands of Indo-Europeans emigrated from Indonesia to the Netherlands or Netherlands New Guinea. Both ESDs Richard Klaessen and Martin Sambeka[42] were ordered to report to the MARBRIG Headquarters in Surabaya to engage in a meeting with commanders of the Marine Corps Brigade. “We were initially told that we were relieved of our duties and that we were not subjected to the MARBRIG anymore. However, due to our successful performances as operators, the commanders guaranteed us that we would be taken care of. We were told that we had several options for our near future. The first option was to stay in Indonesia and help to rebuild the country. For all of us this was not an option, because of the possibility of being assassinated by “kill squads” of the Indonesian intelligence forces. Another possibility was to move to Netherlands New Guinea, which was now the sole Netherlands East Indies colony left. The last option was emigration to the Netherlands or other countries, willing to welcome refugees from war-torn countries”. Although the Navy Personnel administration was aware of the fact that the ESDs were regarded as employees of the Marine Corps Brigade, their formal status as members of the Royal Netherlands Navy was never legalized. Employers’ contracts for ESDs, whether or not offered to the young applicants, were never recorded by an official Navy “appointing authority”. Thus, the ESDs became outlaws in their beloved, but violent country of origin, with no rights or ways of governmental aid.

In line with the Marine Corps motto, Semper Fidelis (“always loyal”), regular marine colleagues of the ESDs requested help and funding for their indigenous comrades, who were fundamental for their survival during operations. Pulling strings at administrative officials resulted in a temporary appointment as KNIL soldiers. Owing to the fact that the KNIL units were formally part of the Netherlands East Indies overseas interests, urged the Netherlands government to help these soldiers and their families for a better place of living[43]. A number of ESDs were transferred to Netherlands New Guinea and, after setting foot on land, were demilitarized. For not all of the ESDs, their skills and capacities had become useless. Martin Sambeka was offered a job at the NNGPM (Nederlandsch New-Guinea Petroleum Maatschappij) oil industry, which employed a lot of Indonesian workers as well. After becoming independent, Indonesia became interested in the last colony of the Netherlands as well. It turned out that Indonesian workers at several Dutch led industries in New Guinea, were also on the pay lists of the Indonesian intelligence service. Due to his ESD background, Martin Sambeka had to monitor the activities of those workers during his 15-year stay in New Guinea.

During the late “60s almost every former ESD operative had settled in the Netherlands or the USA, Canada, or Australia[44]. While former marines started to establish veterans’ associations and enjoying retirement and social activities, the former ESD operatives lived quietly and were almost forgotten. Despite annual gatherings and reunions of former VDMB personnel, ESD operatives fully integrated in their homeland societies and did not talk about their experiences. In contrast to their marine colleagues, no medals, reunions, veteran recognition, or social support was available for ESDs.

It was not until 1969 that a Dutch Army veteran of the East Indies Decolonization War, Dr. J.E. (Jan) Huetink, published an article about atrocities and torture of prisoners during the war. This resulted in yearlong public debates about the questionable role of young Netherlands soldiers in the East Indies, but especially about the way the KNIL soldiers behaved during operations.

Soldiers of the Netherlands Special Forces, KNIL units, and locally employed civilians (LECs), such as ESDs, were accused of summary executions, tortures, and use of sadistic methods on detainees. The full spectrum of the East Indies Independence War now became food for thought, in terms of questions about humanity in war, colonization and exploitation of local inhabitants. Scientific research and an increase in public debates resulted in accusations of East Indies War veterans as murderers and suppressors of innocent people. The Netherlands government, trying to keep up good relations with Indonesia, publicly apologized for the war, atrocities, and colonization, and started compensation- and debt payments to war-affected Indonesian people. The East Indies Independence War became a renewed topic in military, historical, sociological, and legal studies. In the meantime, former ESD operatives became a forgotten legacy of the famous Marine Corps Brigade. The ESDs, who suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) had no single right or safety net they could fall back on. They received no pension compensations for their military service and were formally not recognized as veterans or –in some cases even- casualties of war. Even the possibility to visit Indonesia in the years after the proclamation of independence, was questionable. The majority of former ESDs never re-visited their homeland. Until the late 80s, rumors of the “still active kill list” spread concern and fear to the former ESDs and their families. In recent years, most of the ESDs passed away. They never returned to Indonesia.

In 1990, forty-one years after the end of the armed hostilities in the Dutch East Indies, the ESDs were finally recognized and equated to the status of “military veterans”. The efforts of their marine colleagues, whom they fought side by side with for 3,5 years, were finally successful. Praise and recognition for their courageous and perilous actions were never rewarded with medals or honorable mentions in dispatches. In a special way, the ESDs informally reversed the chain of command in counterinsurgency operations. Despite this non-military concept of military operational planning, they showed their value. 

In 2021, of the almost 180 ESDs who were once operational for the Marine Corps Brigade in the East Indies, approximately three are still living. Their ages vary between 89 and 94 years of age. Graced with the typical Asian modesty, soft-spoken and ultimate friendly, the old and fragile men look younger than the ages they represent. Their pride, loyalty to the cause, beliefs in the methods they used, fanaticism and frustration about their treatment, was not affected over time. The efforts and work of the ESDs were indispensable and of significant importance for the way the MARBRIG conducted its missions in the East Indies. 

Conclusions and Debate

Nowadays, the ESDs are like the soldiers US General Douglas MacArthur once referred to during a speech at the US Military Academy West Point in 1962: “old soldiers never die, they just fade away”. They were never honored as heroes, never really recognized as victims, but they surely were reproached of being perpetrators and war criminals. Due to their history, they were betwixt and between two cultures, never belonging to one or the other, and indeed prone to being willing and violent executioners of the colonial powers. After the Indonesian independence, the ESDs had lost home and hearth. But they also lost their narratives albeit the stories were handed down to their closest relatives in the privacy of their individual lives. Being the “One-eyed man” made the ESDs kings during operations in the Indonesian jungle and in kampongs, but after the independence they were the wretched of the earth in both Indonesia and in the Netherlands. The “reversal of the command chain” narrative, the story of their lifetime, was surreptitiously hidden because it contained a political truth that pointed to the responsibility of commanders, state officials and politicians from all stations. Politicians ordered a restoration of peace and order; commanders had deliberately unleashed their most violent weapon, the sons of the country themselves. The “reversal of the command chain” is a narrative seldom heard until after the seventies, and even then, it was silenced, or made small, meaning that war crimes were presented as “incidents”. Veterans did not like the perpetrator narrative because that would be a moral indictment. Euphemistically calling war crimes “incidents of excessive violence” as political documents (excessennota) did in the seventies only mystify the true systemic nature and scale of the violence. Politicians simply dodged responsibility out of fear for the consequences (like legal, financial, political claims and consequences).

Returning back to the present, the position of the ESD, as civilian local informant, interpreter, and interrogator, is merely formalized in terms of the Locally Employed Civilian (LEC). The Dutch East Indies Independence War and its ESDs are a special and unique topic. Nowadays, colonies no more exist and the strong ties, dependencies, and degrees of freedom of LECs, are different from their ESD predecessors. Nevertheless, in war-torn countries such as North Africa, Iraq, Afghanistan, Mali, and Syria, where the international community sends in military forces to stabilize the hostilities and secure the population, LECs are still of significant value.  Nevertheless, the problematic position of these intelligence assets in a postwar environment is also hardly debated. For instance, in Afghanistan and Iraq, LECs who worked for the coalition forces could face severe or fatal consequences once the international community left their country.[45]  Although an almost 70-year gap exists between the ESD refuge from Indonesia, and the present-day LECs who were abandoned by coalition forces in their homeland, the responsibility and gratitude for their performances, well-being, security, and future still seems a huge challenge to face.

 

 

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Bosman J., Escher R., (2010). Giovanni Hakkenberg, Mens en Marinier. Doorn. 

 

Cormac, Rory. Confronting the Colonies: British Intelligence and Counterinsurgency. Intelligence in Public Literature. Oxford University Press, 2014. 295 pp.

 

Cribb, R.B., Kahin, A. Historical dictionary of Indonesia (Scarecrow Press, 2004).

 

Dahl, Amanda (2016) The Navajo Code Talkers of World War II: The Long Journey Towards Recognition, Historical Perspectives: Santa Clara University Undergraduate Journal of History, Series II: Vol. 21, Article 11.

 

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Dijk, Andrea van, J. Soeters and Richard de Ridder. “Smooth Translation? A Research Note on the Cooperation between Dutch Service Personnel and Local Interpreters in Afghanistan.” Armed Forces & Society 36 (2010): 917 – 925

 

Galula, David. Counterinsurgency Warfare: Theory and Practice, Westport, Connecticut: Praeger Security International, 1964. p.54-56.

 

Groen, Petra. Colonial warfare and military ethics in the Netherlands East Indies, 1816–1941. Journal of Genocide Research 14.3-4 (2012): 277-296.

 

Hornman, W. De geschiedenis van de Mariniersbrigade, Omega Boek, Amsterdam, 1985.

 

Jansen van Galen, John, Ons laatste oorlogje. Nieuw-Guinea: de Pax Neerlandica, de diplomatieke kruistocht en de vervlogen droom van een Papoea-natie (Weesp 1984).

 

Jong de, L., Het Koninkrijk der Nederlanden in de Tweede Wereldoorlog, deel 11C: Nederlands-Indië III. ’s-Gravenhage, Staatsuitgeverij, Rijksinstituut voor Oorlogsdocumentatie, 1986, p. 541.

Klaessen, Richard L. Macaber Soerabaja 1945, De Werfstraatgevangenis. Boek en Blad, 2004.

McMillan, Richard (2003). British Occupation of Indonesia 1945-1946, Britain, the Netherlands and the Indonesian. London, Routledge.

Meijer, Hans. In Indië geworteld, de Geschiedenis van Indische Nederlanders, de twintigste eeuw. (Publisher Bert Bakker, Amsterdam, 2004) P.245 ISBN 90-351-2617-3. Note: Citing Dutch newspaper De Haagsche Post, article dated 4 December 1954.”Archived copy”. Archived from the original on 2011-12-10. Retrieved 2011-08-31.

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Reid, Anthony. The conquest for North-Sumatra, (Oxford University Press, London, 1969).

 

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Rid, Thomas. The Nineteenth Century Origins of Counterinsurgency Doctrine. Journal of Strategic Studies, Vol 33, Iss 5, p. 727-758.

 

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Van Doorn, J.A.A. & Hendrikx, W.J. Het Nederlands Indonesisch Conflict, Ontsporing van Geweld, De Bataafse Leeuw, Amsterdam/Dieren 1985.

 

Vrenken, Maikel (2014). A Common Approach? The British and Dutch in the Netherlands East Indies, 1945-1946. The British Empire at War Research Group. No. 5, 2014.

 

Internet references

http://www.pasadena.edu/files/syllabi/stvillanueva_36282.pdf

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dutch_East_Indies

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pancasila_(politics)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/French_and_British_interludes_in_the_Dutch_East_Indies

http://www.militairespectator.nl/sites/default/files/uitgaven/inhoudsopgave/MS%205-2013%20Groen%20Geweld%20en%20geweten.pdf

http://scholarspace.manoa.hawaii.edu/bitstream/handle/10125/2521/Colonial%20Knowledge%20and%20Indigenous%20Power%20in%20the%20Dutch%20East%20In.pdf?sequence=1

Other Sources

NIMH. (1947, January 6). Artikel, brief en verslagen afkomstig van o.a. de commandant van het 3e bataljon 9e Regiment Infanterie en het 3e bataljon 12e Regiment Infanterie betreffende de gedragingen en misstanden bij de Laskar-troepen beter bekend als Harer Majesteits Ongeregelde Troepen (HAMOT) [Letter to NIMH/ Nederlands Instituut voor Militaire Historie].

 

Van Hooff, H. A. (1998, December 17). Employés speciale diensten [Letter to: De Voorzitter van de Vaste Commissie voor Defensie van de Tweede Kamer der Staten-Generaal]. Den Haag.

 

Universiteit Leiden: Oral History Archive Indonesia (SMGI)

Nationaal Archief, Den Haag. Letter Headquarters Adjudant general concerning ‘Adoptation of Indonesian children by Netherlands military’. Batavia, April 14, 1947.

Nationaal Archief, Den Haag. Company to Commander 1st Marine Battalion, Adoptation of Indonesian children by Netherlands military, Surabaya, May 20th 1947.

 

Interviews / Oral History

Interview with M.L. Sambeka, former ESD Operative, by LTCOL E.A. Bieri, Vlaardingen, the Netherlands. 29-05-2018 and 23-10-2019.

Interview with R.L. Klaessen, former ESD Operative, by LTCOL E.A. Bieri, The Hague, the Netherlands. 06-06-2018.

Interview with C. Visser, former VDMB marine, by LTCOL E.A. Bieri, Capelle aan den IJssel, the Netherlands. 03-12-2018.

 


[1] Storm, E., Al Tuma, A. (Eds.). (2016). Colonial Soldiers in Europe, 1914-1945. New York: Routledge.

[2] Vrenken, Maikel (2014). A Common Approach? The British and Dutch in the Netherlands East Indies, 1945-1946. The British Empire at War Research Group. No. 5, 2014.

[3] The West New Guinea dispute of 1950-1962 was a continuation of the Dutch-Indonesian Independence struggle following Indonesian sovereignty on 27th December 1949. The Indonesian government claimed the Dutch-controlled half part of New Guinea on the basis of its newly obtained sovereignty.

[4] Jansen van Galen, John, Ons laatste oorlogje. Nieuw-Guinea: de Pax Neerlandica, de diplomatieke kruistocht en de vervlogen droom van een Papoea-natie. Weesp, 1984.

[5] Jong de, L., Het Koninkrijk der Nederlanden in de Tweede Wereldoorlog, deel 11C: Nederlands-Indië III. ’s-Gravenhage, Staatsuitgeverij, Rijksinstituut voor Oorlogsdocumentatie, 1986, p. 541.

[6] Van Hooff, H. A. (1998, December 17). Employés speciale diensten [Letter to: De Voorzitter van de Vaste Commissie voor Defensie van de Tweede Kamer der Staten-Generaal]. Den Haag.

[7] Reid, Anthony. The Indonesian National Revolution 1945–1950. Melbourne: Longman Pty Ltd., 1974.

[8] McMillan, Richard (2003). The British Occupation of Indonesia 1945-1946, Britain, the Netherlands and the Indonesian Revolution. London, Routledge.

[9] Moor, J.A. de, Met klewang en karabijn: militaire geschiedenis van Nederlands-Indië (1815-1949) in: J. R. Bruin en C.B. Wels ed., Met man en macht. Een militaire geschiedenis van Nederland 1550-2000 (Amsterdam 2003) 199-244, p. 201.

[10] Van Delden, M., De republikeinse kampen in Nederlands-Indië, oktober 1945 – mei 1947. Orde in de chaos? Wageningen 2007.

[11] NIMH. (1947, January 6). Artikel, brief en verslagen afkomstig van o.a. de commandant van het 3e bataljon 9e Regiment Infanterie en het 3e bataljon 12e Regiment Infanterie betreffende de gedragingen en misstanden bij de Laskar-troepen beter bekend als Harer Majesteits Ongeregelde Troepen (HAMOT) [Letter to NIMH/ Nederlands Instituut voor Militaire Historie].

[12] Van Delden, M., De republikeinse kampen in Nederlands-Indië, oktober 1945 – mei 1947. Orde in de chaos? Wageningen 2007.

[13] Hornman, W., De geschiedenis van de Mariniersbrigade, Omega Boek, Amsterdam, 1985.

[14] Schoonoord, D.C.L., De Mariniersbrigade 1943-1949 Wording en inzet in Indonesië, Instituut voor Maritieme Historie, ‘s Gravenhage, 1988.

[15], Hornman, W., De geschiedenis van de Mariniersbrigade, Omega Boek, Amsterdam, 1985.

[16] Schoonoord, D.C.L., De Mariniersbrigade 1943-1949 Wording en inzet in Indonesië, Instituut voor Maritieme Historie, ‘s Gravenhage, 1988.

[17] Van Doorn, J.A.A. & Hendrikx, W.J. Het Nederlands Indonesisch Conflict, Ontsporing van Geweld, De Bataafse Leeuw, Amsterdam/Dieren 1985.

[18] NEFIS: Netherlands East-Indies Forces Intelligence Service (EAB).

[19] Oral History Archive Indonesia (SMGI), Universiteit Leiden.

[20] Bosman J., Escher R., (2010). Giovanni Hakkenberg, Mens en Marinier. Doorn. 

[21] The MARBRIG, like many other Marine Corps units in other countries, was part of the Royal Netherlands Navy (EAB).

[22] Bruyne, C. M., De. (1976, February 16). Gebrek in de Mariniersbrigade van personeel dat taal-land en volk in deze gewesten kent [Letter to Commandant der Zeemacht in Nederlands-Indië]. Headquarters MARBRIG, Surabaya, NL East Indies.

[23] Nuis, J. (2014), Marinebataljon Oost-Java, Maart 1942. Netherlands Marine Corps, Rotterdam.

[24] Ibid.

[25] Nationaal Archief

[26] Ibid.

[27] Ibid.

[28] Universiteit Leiden:  Oral History Archive Indonesia (SMGI).

[29] Interview with M.L. Sambeka, former ESD Operative, by LTCOL E.A. Bieri, Vlaardingen, the Netherlands. 29-05-2018.

[30] Interview with R.L. Klaessen, former ESD Operative, by LTCOL E.A. Bieri, The Hague, the Netherlands. 06-06-2018.

[31] Universiteit Leiden: Oral History Archive Indonesia (SMGI).

[32] Klaessen, Richard L. Macaber Soerabaja 1945, De Werfstraatgevangenis. Boek en Blad, 2004.

[33] Meijer, Hans. In Indië geworteld, de Geschiedenis van Indische Nederlanders, de twintigste eeuw. (Publisher Bert Bakker, Amsterdam, 2004) P.245 ISBN 90-351-2617-3. Note: Citing Dutch newspaper ‘De Haagsche Post’, article dated 4 December 1954.Archived copy. Archived from the original on 2011-12-10. Retrieved 2011-08-31.

[34] Nationaal Archief, Den Haag.

[35] Interview with M.L. Sambeka, former ESD Operative, by LTCOL E.A. Bieri, Vlaardingen, the Netherlands. 29-05-2018 and 23-10-2019.

[36] Nationaal Archief, Den Haag.

[37] Nationaal Archief, Den Haag.

[38] Universiteit Leiden: Oral History Archive Indonesia (SMGI).

 

[39] Bosman J., Escher R., (2010). Giovanni Hakkenberg, Mens en Marinier. Doorn. 

[40] Universiteit Leiden: Oral History Archive Indonesia (SMGI).

 

[41] Van Doorn, J.A.A. & Hendrikx, W.J. Het Nederlands Indonesisch Conflict, Ontsporing van Geweld, De Bataafse Leeuw, Amsterdam/Dieren 1985.

[42] Interviews with Richard Klaessen and Martin Sambeka (EAB).

[43] In 1950, the KNIL was disbanded and all of its members were demilitarized in the Netherlands. Some could choose transfer to regular Netherlands Army units but the majority went into civilian live (EAB).

[44] List of ESDs (EAB).

[45]See the study Dijk, Andrea van, J. Soeters and Richard de Ridder. “Smooth Translation? A Research Note on the Cooperation between Dutch Service Personnel and Local Interpreters in Afghanistan.” Armed Forces & Society 36 (2010): 917 – 925.

 

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