These four North Holland veterans were looking for missing Sumanta, but found peace

The body of Sumanta Bansi has still not been found. The Hoorn student has been missing for years − this afternoon it will become clear (see box) whether the judge holds Manodj B. responsible for her death. The disappearance of the young Surinamese woman became national news; she was pregnant with her first child and disappeared overnight. After February 18, 2018, no one will hear from her again − as if she has been dissolved in thin air.

As horrific as such a disappearance is, the members of the Veterans Search Team (VST) are on standby almost day and night to help the emergency services in the event of a sudden disappearance or suspicious disappearance. The former soldiers go out at night and at night. They thrive in such an environment of military precision. “I found my confidence again,” says Tom Hippe.

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Tom is one of the four North Holland former soldiers we speak to for this story. The 62-year-old Amsterdammer has only been a member of the team for a few years, the search for Sumanta was his first. When he hears a message on his phone during the night, he doesn’t hesitate for a moment. Sumanta has been missing for a year, but this message this search − may lead to a breakthrough in the case.

The search area is not next door for Tom. Sumanta is wanted in the Robbenoordbos, north of Wieringerwerf. He remembers the ride from minute to minute. A storm is raging over the deserted A7. The wind gusts are so strong that the raindrops seem to fall horizontally. Tom struggles to control his BMW engine due to the gusts of wind. It is October 29, 2019 and the retired man is on his way to his first search mission with the Veterans Search Team.

Once arrived, he is handed a cup of coffee in a soaking wet motorcycle suit. He warms his hands on the sweltering paper cup and joins the group. About sixty veterans have gathered at the edge of the forest. He doesn’t know anyone, but Tom still feels at home within the group. He puts on the team’s uniform: a black polo shirt and a fluorescent jacket with the logo, a watchful owl. ‘Quietis Semper et Paratus’ appears below the logo. Always calm and ready.

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The day’s manager then takes the floor and distributes the search teams across the area. Tom is assigned a buddy and becomes part of a long line of sleuthing companions. The mission: find the body of the missing Sumanta Bansi.

In a dark rainy forest in search of a girl’s body. The military approach does Tom good. He has missed the hierarchy and discipline for the past thirty years and he feels useful again. A feeling he sometimes missed during his military deployments. The usefulness of the mission was not always clear to him.

The quest for Sumanta continues until it is too dark to search. Sumanta isn’t found, but Tom finds something that night he’s been waiting for: a little direction in his life.

The 39-year-old Robbert Miedema understands that: “The group bond, structure and discipline are there, so that just works very well,” he says. Miedema is a so-called deployment coordinator at the VST, he ensures that the ex-soldiers do what is necessary. Veterans see every quest as an opportunity to do something good. Miedema: “That’s the military’s motivation.”

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Miedema is sent to Uruzgan in 2007. As a scout, he enters unknown enemy territory. “I can still remember every second of my broadcast,” he says in his spacious sunny backyard in Monnickendam. The broad-shouldered thirty-something talks calmly and seemingly impassively about his broadcast. Robbert is now a personal trainer/gym owner and has not worked for defense since 2012.

Despite all the violent events in Uruzgan, he still lacks the tension and solidarity of the defense. Robbert still remembers the hectic pace well. The seriously injured and dead on the Dutch side made an impression on him. “The moment I went back to the Netherlands, I still had everything in order.”

Once home, he sees the impact the broadcast has on his family. Robbert experiences every second of his broadcast. But for his father, mother and brother it remains to be seen whether Robbert will return in one piece. In order not to drag his family through such a hell again, he promises them not to go on broadcast again. But that also leaves a hole. “For me then all the challenge was gone.”

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Robbert now fills the gap that defense left behind with his work at the VST. Every search is a mission, almost feels like a broadcast. “You are surrounded by people who understand and follow the military structure”, Robbert explains. “We really have a goal again, a mission that we have to accomplish together.” Laughing: “We just don’t need to wear bulletproof vests anymore.”

Meet at Defense

Karina and Aart van Beek endorse the stories of Robbert and Tom. “Every time the VST collects, it feels like coming home,” says 56-year-old Karina in her home in Den Helder. She lives there with Aart (51). The couple met at Defense. “You’re there for each other. It’s really a different world from civil society.”

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Aart has been working for the defense since he was sixteen. For him, a military career is a childhood dream come true. He has just arrived from Maritiem Vliegkamp De Kooy, a few hundred meters away. From the window of the living room you have a good view of the helicopters taking off.

Karina has also dreamed of defense from an early age, but due to personal circumstances, it never happened. “Until I hit the table with my fist and just started doing it.” Better late than never was the motto. Although she was no longer able to broadcast because of her age. That does not officially make her a veteran, but a former soldier. You are not a veteran until you have been deployed to a war zone. “That’s why I’m so happy with my work at the VST. That way I can mean something to society,” says Karina, beaming.

A new confidence

Back to Amsterdam-North, where Tom tells about his military career from his allotment garden. Unlike the other three, Tom has suffered a major blow from his time in defense. He left Lebanon in February 1980 with a gunshot wound to his left and right leg. “A buddy at the barracks was fiddling with his rifle,” he stoically remarks. “Yeah, then it goes off, doesn’t it.”

Two months later, his contract expires and he is fired. The disability pension is delayed and Tom hits the bottom. “I was just kicked out with two broken legs.” That dismissal has long remained an open wound. “Literally and figuratively,” he says pointing down. Right above a tattoo of the coat of arms of Amsterdam on his ankle is a huge scar. The trajectory of the bullet through his shins is still clearly visible.

The thankless dismissal from defense hurt Tom. It was difficult to find his way back into civil society afterwards. ‘Drop them all through the ground,’ he thought, as he had to work his battered legs to make ends meet.

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For Tom, the VST came as a gift from heaven. “I found my confidence again,” he says. The relief can still be read on his face two and a half years later. “Confidence in others, but also in myself.” Tom has made it to coordinator, and keeps track of every bet in his book. “We had ten bets this year,” he reads. “Four of which were successful.”

Calm and ready

What is striking about all conversations with the four veterans: the telephones remain on at all times, preferably at the loudest volume. The conversation can be interrupted at any time by a report of a missing person. Then it’s go time. The bags with the necessary items are ready and the veterans can leave the door within five minutes.

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It’s exactly what Karina likes so much. And what she likes to talk about. Over a night that seemed to remain deadly still.

A helicopter taking off can sometimes make some noise at night, but this night it remains quiet, she says. Until her phone lights up. A VST message blares through the bedroom. The couple shoots up in bed and immediately springs into action. They both grab their own bags, quickly don the VST uniform and rush downstairs. The time of the report means a search in the pitch dark. The couple does not have to consult, the actions are carried out on autopilot. Flashlights in hand, the two in the signature fluorescent jacket rush to their black pickup.

Ping! Karina’s smartphone lights up the interior of the car. “Person found.”

They dive back into bed and turn around again, as if nothing happened. Awaiting the next notification. Always calm and ready.