Bren naar voren, partisanen!  het O.V.W.-Bataljon 1-12 R.I. op Java

B.H. Erne, 1949
IDL 76 N17 B Defensiebibliotheek http://defbib.kma.nl:2371/

Het Peerd van Ome Loeks. The badge of  1-12 R.I., brown on gold.

The Groningen Anthem:

From Lauwersea to Dollard
From Drenth to the Waddensea
Grows and blooms a wonderful land
Around a wonderful city
A jewel with a golden crest
It’s Groningen, city and surrounding land

Het Peerd van Ome Loeks. The badge of  1-12 R.I., brown on gold.

Introduction

The Groningen Anthem:

Van Lauwersee tot Dollard tou,

Van Drente tot aan ‘t wad,

Doar gruit, doar bluit ain wonderlaand

Rondom ain wondre stad,

Ain pronkjewail in golden raand,

Is Grönnen, Stad en Ommelaand

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Ut elit tellus, luctus nec ullamcorper mattis, pulvinar dapibus leo.

Not all men of the 1-12 R.I. come from Groningen, but most do, and many of the others received their initial training there. Thus, our battalion is rightly called the Groningen Battalion, and “Grönnens Laid” is considered its battle song. It sings of the City and the Surroundings and has done so many times, even when foreign cities and Eastern landscapes showed us different beauty. It has accompanied us on a journey around the world. It echoed among the Internal Armed Forces in the Sint Jansstraat, at the Adolf van Nassau Barracks in Zuidlaren, where the battalion was founded on October 2, 1945, and trained for nearly three months. During the cold, night train journey to Ostend, it was sung on January 1, 1946, when we began our great journey from the small station Vries; aboard the “Dronning Maud,” which took us to Tilbury Docks; in the metal huts of Easthampstead Park Camp; and on the “Nieuw Amsterdam,” which departed Southampton on January 25, 1946, arriving in Singapore, where we left this beautiful ship. It traveled with us on the filthy rattling train to the tents of Chaah, in the heart of Malacca; aboard the San Salvino and the Nevasa to Surabaya; it resonated in Gendong Tambak and Benowo, Bringkang and Tjermee, where we maintained peace; we sang it in the luxurious mountain village of Tretes, where our first “advance” ended, and in Malang, the large city that the 1-12 took over and governed militarily for more than six months. It returned with us on the Waterman, in August 1948, and resonated when we held our reunion in Groningen in September of that year. And now, when we hear it again, it has become more to us than just a song that Groningers sing at certain occasions with provincial pride; it is a comrade who was with us during the rest stops in that exciting, wonderful, demanding period that lies behind us, the brief and rich life period of the O.V.W.-Battalion 1-12 R.I.

It was disbanded when time had made some selections and experienced men took charge. Two battalions were formed, one in Groningen under Captain Van ‘t Landt, the other in Winschoten under Captain J. Wierserna; the first was to go to Indonesia, the second to Germany. However, various circumstances still worked against them, and it wasn’t until October 2, 1945 that the establishment of 1-12 R.I. became a reality from these two battalions. It was assigned to reserve infantry captain Dr. B. H. Erné and accompanied by the availability of the beautiful Adolf van Nassau barracks in Zuidlaren.

 

What a struggle this has been! From the morning, when the battalion commander, Captain Wierserna, commanded the large square to “raise the flags”, until late in the evening, when the troops learned the lessons of the day and the staff prepared for the next, under the guidance of Sergeant Bronnenberg. The heath has tasted sweat, and there was grumbling about Circus-Tas, the staff school in Hooghalen, where many of us were squeezed for several weeks.

There was also entertainment, sometimes from outside, sometimes within the troop. For the latter, time had to be stolen, and so the B.C. surprised his M.T.0. at two in the morning as he came from the office, right in the midst of a fearsome aria, causing the walls to tremble. And Kolleman, the sergeant cook, was seriously mimicking a farm with animals—a hen and a rooster, a cat and a cow, and finally a most delightful baby. There was an oath-taking, ceremoniously, on the cinder field next to the barracks, followed by a celebration that lasted until morning, and a beautiful march through Groningen afterward. “Now we have a Dutch army again,” an old gentleman said affectingly, and we were proud of it.

There were also funerals, two of friends who fell during the training. Because it was war training, live ammunition was used. After all, there were rumors about departure and delays. (Think of the extra rations). But before it came to that, many dropped out for whom the service proved too heavy, and reinforcements came from elsewhere, from the Veluwe, Limburg, Brabant, and Western Netherlands. Meanwhile, there was chaos from all sides. The supplies had to come from Rotterdam and Woerden and the trucks from Soesterberg. There was always something on the way. In Groningen, a house was hit, near Meppel the B.C. ended up in the canal, and in Assen a carrier got stuck; it all didn’t matter, the battalion was ready.

An “Indonesian training team” appeared a few days later; an old teacher gave us a briefing about Insulinde, we learned our first Malay; the inspection papers got lost (Dok!), we were “tested,” our boarding leave came, the vaccinations were given so early that we spent more than three weeks in quarantine without a “trick” and just when Captain Harriman wondered if anything would ever happen, we boarded the train and left in an orderly manner. As L.I.B., light infantry battalion, meaning with a staff and 5 infantry companies, thus without mortars and other heavy weapons. But we were already satisfied, we traveled.

There is much more to tell about that long journey and the short life of our battalion; so much that in this book we can only touch on a small part of it. There are names of places and people, and facts that deserve documentation; but we do not intend to make it a history book. Let it be vivid and not strictly measured according to what will seem most important; but still in such a way that we are reminded of the countless things we want to share with those who stayed behind; the wives and children, the parents and fiancées, the entire circle who followed us with love, and to whom we now dedicate this book, to The Home Front.

Brothers in arm  
Like all 0. V. W. battalions, 1-12 performed a lot of independent work; the situation meant that units were rarely combined for a large operation. There was a strong sense of responsibility for one’s own role; it was preferable to work doubly hard rather than fail to manage their responsibilities. Everyone contributed in their own way, as the leadership allowed a lot of freedom. This cultivated a high level of productivity, but sometimes also led to excessive individualism; it became apparent that one could forget what was “below,” even though what was seen “above” was very clear: that a larger effort was needed.

Over time, things improved, particularly because in the second year, combined efforts were required much more often; thus the sense of cooperation grew rapidly. This was clearly demonstrated in a small survey by Mr. Van Dijk. Question 5: “Everything we have achieved here has come from cooperation from top to bottom. Will you seek and promote that cooperation in the Netherlands, or will you only take care of yourself?” 90.8% expressed support for collaboration, while 6.5% had no opinion.

The units we worked with primarily included the staff and the associated battalions of the X Brigade. We traveled with I-I and 2-5 from England. The Drenthen families, closely related to us, departed from Soerabaja to Medan; the Tiger Heads of 2-10 had joined in the meantime. These three old battalions diverged significantly in the second year: Modjokerto (2-5), Pasoeroean and Bondowoso (2-10), Malang (1-12). At this point, we closely interacted with the so-called security battalions 3-5 and 4-5, “so-called” because they performed ordinary frontline work; both produced renowned football players in East Java. Despite minor misunderstandings that sometimes seemed significant at the moment, this brigade was a pleasant and enthusiastic group.

The cooperation, however, extended much further. Initially, there were the British, who helped us considerably. Then the Marines.

Closing words

Behind the facts described here lies another, deeper, personal reality. Each of us experienced this Indonesian period in our own way. We encountered much beauty, but also fear, the companion of courage; loneliness amidst many, despair and longing. We have been brave soldiers, always ready to act, yet never whole with ourselves.

At times we were exuberant; at other times, death struck us suddenly. We were a battalion to be proud of, and eight hundred people with far too many worries, each with a life of their own and a soul.

Little has been written about this in this book. But as our attention goes over the photo and text, and we revisit our journeys on the cards, more will come to life than is depicted here. Behind this collection of memories lies a more intriguing book for each of us, surprising, exciting, and not every page as beautiful as we had hoped it would be.

This is over. Whether regrettable or fortunate, it is over. We follow the further developments in Indonesia with tension, but our task lies here, in the Netherlands, at home.

I already know that for many it proves not easy to find their way through this, but it will succeed, men, “failing” is not an option.

I sincerely hope that you succeed in your family, in your work – in your life.

November 1948. ERNÉ. (Commander 12th Infantry Regiment)

Since this book was written, a lot has happened in Indonesia and several hundred men from our battalion were involved. Little is known about their fates, although we know from letters that they played a significant role in the so-called second police action and in the subsequent cleanup and recovery efforts. Our former second company, now 3-2-15 R.I., with 1st Lieutenant Langenberg, A. de Groot, and Baalbergen, operated in the Kediri area and did remarkable work.

Unfortunately, some of them fell: we heard about it from Sergeant De Geus, the long-distance runner, from Corporal Van Hunnik and Van Brienen. Due to self-sacrificial actions, our driver Piet Schoonveld fell in the Tretes area, while assigned to 2-10 R.I. This book also holds a final salute for them from the circle of old friends.

We wanted to share these few details, however incomplete; it is possible that after full repatriation, a short report on the remaining members of 1-12 may still appear. E.

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