They have served in Lebanon, Rwanda and Cambodia. Were stationed in the former Yugoslavia, Afghanistan or Iraq. What the heaps of man in the documentary Lost veterans what Marjoleine Boonstra have in common is that they came back from their peacekeeping missions as a different person. One who has made his mark in a society before nukubus (useless cunt burgers) couldn’t find anymore. Who started at an unexpected noise and attacked at what he thought was danger. Before Peter, Jaap, Guido, Dave, Roy and Jamal ended up at Thuisbase Veteranen in Drenthe, they lived in a caravan, at the Salvation Army or in a tent in the woods. Men at the bottom of the “veteran well”.
Klaas Wit, supervisor at the Home Base, served with the Marines for 33 years and he knows that he sometimes pushed boys over the edge on missions. “Mission first.” He saw them change. You don’t have to be on the frontline to get PTSD, he says. “There are cooks among them, boys from the infirmary, some of them never left the camp and yet they have it.” Constant tension and fear of another mortar attack, that does something to you, he says. And if you’re unlucky, what you experienced will break your brain.
As a viewer, you have to empathize with how these veterans suffered from their experiences, because they don’t tell you that much about it. This is partly solved by texts spoken by Pierre Bokma, about the feelings of the men. But you don’t quite get to know if these men might have been a little vulnerable before their mission, not just through it. Why does one get so out of balance and the other doesn’t seem to be bothered by anything? There is no answer to that, if at all.
Earlier this week, on Monday, you saw at Other times special another type of veteran: richly decorated eighties and nineties who fought in Korea. After World War II, the north of Korea was controlled by the Soviet Union and the south by the United States. North Korea attacked South Korea in 1950, supported by communist China. The US and the United Nations rallied behind South Korea. The Netherlands supported the UN mission by sending 4,000 volunteers. Conscripts who returned from what was then the Dutch East Indies, a handful of former SS men and young adventurers.
Herman van der Leelie had no idea where Korea was, but it seemed like something to him. At the time, he spoke to Jon Bluming, who had already served in Korea for a year when he was 17 years old. There was a documentary about Bluming last week, with his nickname as the title: The beast of Amsterdam (KRO-NCRV). After Korea, he became one of the greatest karate masters. In martial arts he was able to channel his aggression and murderous lust acquired in Korea. Violence, he said, was not the solution, but one.
One million UN soldiers faced one million Chinese in Korea. Several million dead in three years of war, mostly civilians. Winters with thirty degrees of frost, napalm bombardments, fields full of dead. On old news footage we see the first group of soldiers returning to the Netherlands by boat. It was “a bad situation,” they tell the reporter. “It’s no fun, but I’m glad I went.”
George Bosma is asked if he has nightmares about Korea. He thought not. His wife Janny, meanwhile, is nodding yes and says that she was regularly taken by him at night. “It’s best to talk as little as possible.” Ferry Titalepta remembers the tame reception upon returning home. Commander’s speech, bowl of chowder, bus 5 to Maastricht, bus 10 to Leeuwarden. “Thank you, guys. It’s finished.”