Known to God
This is my uncle Maarten. I feel a connection to him, but never met or knew him. He died in Thailand long before I was born. Maarten was a prisoner of war of the Japanese and was forced to work on the death railway to Burma during the Second World War. He did not survive and was only 28 years old.
Also this year, on August 15, I will be at the commemoration of the end of World War II in Asia and the death of almost three thousand Dutch people at the cemetery in Kanchanaburi. Not only Dutch people are here, but also Australians, British and Indians. They were all young when they died, often in their twenties, sometimes in their thirties, a few in their forties. Some graves have no names. Then it says: known to God.
In 1942, the Japanese occupiers want to build a railway line from Thailand to Burma to supply their soldiers. The Allies have already closed off the options over water. More than 250 thousand people are put to work there. About 60 thousand prisoners of war and the rest workers from the region. No one knows how terrible it will be. It's gonna be hell. There is a lack of food. There's the heat and the stifling humidity. There is malaria, cholera, dysentery and exhaustion. There is no good material to work with. Some bridges are put together with nails and rope. There is the humiliation and physical pressure from the Japanese. Getting beaten is no exception. As time starts to run out, the violence becomes more brutal, reaching unimaginable limits.
This certainly applies to the construction of the Hellfire Pass. With hammers and chisels, two walls are carved into metres-high rocks, where the railway line must come in between. Working longer and longer. Ultimately 24 hours a day. Some work 16, 20 or more hours a day. The defecation of the prisoners is checked every day. If it's less than half blood, they have to work. Every day people die on the job. You can still see the memories in the Hellfire Pass, the yellowed photos, bears, poppies, crosses, notes with thoughts.
From 1944, the Allies tried to destroy as many bridges of the railway as possible, including bridge 277, the later famous bridge over the River Kwai. In June 1945, the track, which was built in 17 months and only used for 21 months, is destroyed.
Of the approximately 250 men and women who had to work on the railway, more than 70 die. Between 90 and 16 thousand of these are civilian workers. Plus some XNUMX Allied prisoners of war. Nearly three thousand Dutch people among them. And Maarten Boer, the uncle I would have loved to have known.
Ernst Otto Smit
Dutch people who are in Thailand on August 15 and who want to attend the wreath-laying and commemoration at the cemeteries in Kanchanaburi are welcome. Please contact GreenWood Travel.
Unfortunately, the train journey over the bridge has become more of a joyful outing and many people have forgotten all the atrocities that took place during the construction of the railway. A visit to the JEATH War Museum is highly recommended to refresh one's memory. The letters stand for Japanese-English-Australian and American-Thai and Holland.
When I visit this museum and read and study all the reports extensively, I get ice cold.
Been there 3 times already, but every time goosebumps.
Such a small museum with such a great wealth of historical information
Should be mandatory for everyone to see
Visited the cemetery in 1993 during a River Kwai tour.
Then you are 10000 km from home and then you see those traditional Dutch names on a tombstone.
Well, that will make you quiet for a while, I can tell you.
That was also my experience when I saw those many Dutch names, made a deep impression on me.
When you visit the cemetery and see the graves of all those young boys, tears will flow and how privileged we and our children and grandchildren are
So many young people lost their lives there. When I once took my sister-in-law with me, she was even more impressed than I always was. Unfortunately she also only lived to be 26. Our stepfather worked on the railway line and often talked about the hard-boiled eggs that the Thai women hid in the hedge along which they walked 'home'. How that gave them that little bit of strength. And about the fish in the pools that ate the sores on their legs. My own father was in a boys' camp on Java and was liberated on August 16.
And the Thais claim that Thailand (Siam) has never been occupied.
Do not think that a Thai will claim that Thailand (Siam) has never been occupied.
But I think, as usual, there is again no distinction between “occupy” and “colonise”…
https://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bezetting_(militair)
https://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kolonisatie
In any case, Thailand was not neutral, that is also sometimes claimed…
I don't think Thailand was ever occupied because they were on the side of Japan and let them build that railway.
Thailand had wanted to remain sovereign, but the Japanese came ashore here and there and the country then had the choice: to let the Japs through on their way to countries that fell under British rule or to be seen as an enemy of the Jap. Thailand chose to cooperate and get a piece of the pie (taking some areas from neighbors that the government believes would historically belong to Thailand). Phiboen with its Mussolini complex pleased the Japs. But as a cooperative puppet of the Jap, it was also just an occupied country.
In July 2018 I spent 3 days in and near Kanchanaburi to get closer to my father who worked as a prisoner of war on the railway for a year and a half before witnessing the Fatman fall in Nagasaki on August 9, 4 km away. It touched me deeply that he has kept our family and me from his suffering and indescribable all his life. Silence, suppression and denial was apparently his only choice to 'survive'. I would have loved to speak to him openly about how he survived the horrors, fears and humiliations. And wanting to appreciate him for his unconditional fatherly love and being an example in pursuing joy in life and tolerance, which he was nevertheless able to muster. The visit to Kanchanaburi, the Hellfire pass and higher up the line, towards Lin tin and Handato (Dutch Camps) has helped me a lot, a kind of ritual pilgrimage, also to achieve a postmortem spiritual connection with my father and his companions. I wish everyone such an experience. We are the Burma Railway!
I was there in 1977. I paid my respects at the cemetery of fallen Dutch soldiers. Took a look at the bridge but was not allowed on it. There was an old locomotive and a souvenir stall. The next day with a boat in a cave. The other passenger was a Thai with his wife and this man had worked on this bridge. He wanted to see it one last time and reminisce. There was no decent hotel at the time and we slept in a Baht 100 per night hotel which later turned out to be a short time hotel. There were all kinds of dark figures prowling around the unlit corridor at night. Also, the road from Bangkok to Kanchanaburi was a dirt road full of potholes and took about five hours of driving, with my Willys Jeep.