Jan, who had seen all this, had flared up at the subaltern, saying, “One man can’t possibly carry all that.”
“You carry it, then,” replied the subaltern, and Jan had taken the extra pack over from the porter without further comment and had slung it over his shoulder. Lieutenant Andersma, who by chance had followed the whole incident, had said to the subaltern, “You can still learn something from a simple soldier about good army practice, Officer Bels!”
The subaltern had given Jan a look that could kill and had muttered a curse. From that moment on the subaltern had had it in for Jan. He had even almost pushed him in the creek, ostensibly by accident, and recently when Jan had stumbled over something, as far as he was concerned it wasn’t over a sharp stake but over an extended foot: that of Officer Bels.
When the lieutenant had not returned after three days, the porters became worried. There were murmurings about a raid on Klein Paradijs. Officer Bels went there with two soldiers. They returned with the news that Lieutenant Andersma was dead, shot by the Bonis during a raid on the plantation. The plantation owner had not been there at the time. When he returned the next day he had found Andersma’s body.
The group was therefore now under the command of Officer Bels. They must press on, more towards the Marowijne. After several days on the go they came across another commando at a post. This was a group under the command of Captain Mayland. They had discovered the Boni’s village ‘Gado Sabi’, which was surrounded by agricultural land. The entrance to the village had been found by a few negroes from the Free Corps, but they had not been able to capture the village or take the Bonis prisoner, for as soon as the negroes had seen the military approaching, one of them had set fire to two houses at the front. The military fired, but the Bonis fired back, and while the military had been halted by the rain of bullets the Bonis had been able to get away. Then the fire had spread over part of the swamp and the military had had to withdraw. The Bonis had fled into the bush and the military had been unable to follow them.
It was, however, suspected that there were several other small villages. It was now the task of Officer Bels’ commando to look for them. Captain Mayland’s group, already three months on the go, would carry on to ‘Devils Harwar’, where there was a military hospital. More than half the soldiers were on the verge of exhaustion.
The group under Officer Bels’ command pressed on northwards. Jan was increasingly the object of the officer’s bullying. He was often given all kinds of stupid tasks and dare not refuse, knowing that Bels would report him as a mutineer or objector. Now they came to a swamp. Would they have to go through it or try to walk round it?
“We need to send someone to find out whether we can get through,” said the officer. “Go on Jan, you go through!”
“Me, why me?” Jan looked fearfully at the swamp. Wasn’t that a crocodile? Some anacondas?
“Jan, come on, are you afraid?” The officer gave him a push in the back, and the next moment he was standing up to his knees in the swamp. The thick mud sucked at his feet so that it was with the utmost difficulty that he could make any progress, hoping that his mates on the bank would make enough noise to frighten away any crocodiles or snakes. He sunk ever deeper. He was now fifty metres from the edge, with no end in sight. Now the mud came up to his chest. He looked round. No-one was following him. Then he saw the officer signal left, and a soldier shouted, “Don’t go any further, Jan, we’re going round it.”
He understood that this was yet another of the officer’s tricks. He was probably never intending to go through the swamp in the first place. The whole day Jan had to struggle on further in his stinking, muddy clothes. Once again he had ulcers, wounds and blisters everywhere. He felt shivery, too, as if he were developing a fever.
Excitement in the vanguard. They had come across a field of food crops. Ripe corn, cassava and bananas. The soldiers plundered the field and they stopped for a while so that everyone could take enough for his own consumption. Then the crops were completely destroyed. Jan did not participate in the destruction. He tried to keep out of the way, noticing, however, that Officer Bels was keeping an eye on him. He pretended to be busy with his gun, which had got wet. He wanted no part in ruining the bush-negroes’ produce.
During his time in the negroes’ village, he had continually wondered why they had to be hunted and destroyed. It was so obvious that the Maroons really wanted peace and asked only to be allowed to live free in the bush. Jan could not understand what was so wrong with that. Now he understood that, if the government gave in to the bush-negroes, that could signal the end of slavery, for then even more slaves would flee. The plantations could not operate without slaves, and so they must stay, must be exploited, must be too scared to escape. Without the plantations there would, after all, be no coffee, cotton or sugar and therefore no wealth for the planters. The captured Boni-negroes had to serve as an example, frightening other refugees, and therefore they had to be punished severely. What a system! What misery! And to cap it all, the planters were convinced that they were good people. After all, they went to church on Sunday, praised and glorified God, who was so bountiful to them.