Black smoke still hung over Tanjung Perak Harbor when white flags began to appear among the ruins. Soldiers of the KNIL and the Royal Netherlands Marines who had survived the brutal bombardment and ground assault raised their hands one by one. Rifles were dropped to the ground, helmets removed, pale faces staring blankly at the fighters who now stood proudly with chests out and weapons raised.
For many of them, this was not merely a military defeat. It was the collapse of the belief that colonialism was an unshakable destiny.
Amid the chaos, Soerjadi, the commander of the assault force on Tanjung Perak Harbor, stood atop the ruins of a burning ammunition warehouse. His uniform was stained with dust and soot, yet his gaze remained sharp and controlled. He raised his hand high, signaling a halt.
"All battalion commanders!" he shouted loudly. "Secure the prisoners! No executions on the spot!"
This was an instruction from headquarters: if the enemy surrendered and laid down their weapons, then no enemy was to be killed out of sheer hatred.
The order was quickly relayed by couriers and the shouts of field officers. The arek-arek of Surabaya, who since morning had been fighting with anger restrained for years, struggled to hold themselves back. Even so, not everyone could be controlled.
Some colonial soldiers—especially indigenous troops loyal to the Dutch—who surrendered still received punches, kicks, or blows from rifle butts before being dragged away. Blood flowed, no longer because of open warfare, but as an outpouring of vengeance that was difficult to restrain.
However, discipline was gradually enforced.
The prisoners were gathered, registered one by one, then formed into long columns under tight guard by the independence fighters. The long march began, heading toward a temporary concentration camp on the outskirts of the city.
Along the road to the camp, the sights that greeted them were far more painful than any blow. Civilians who had previously been hiding now emerged from their homes, narrow alleys, and building ruins—women, men, the elderly, even children.
"Colonizers!"
"Murderers!"
"Get off our land!"
"Traitors! Dutch dogs!!"
Spit flew through the air. Curses echoed. Some cried, others stared with red eyes full of hatred. The faces of Dutch and KNIL soldiers lowered even further. They no longer saw armed enemies, but the people they had long considered powerless.
Especially the indigenous KNIL soldiers who remained loyal—they were truly ashamed and sorrowful, for they had chosen to become servants of the Dutch rather than fight for the rights of their own oppressed people. Ironically, many of them were natives of Surabaya themselves…
Fortunately, armed fighters pushed back the crowd that tried to get too close. Soerjadi had firmly stated that chaos after victory was poison to the revolution.
…
Several hours later, the center of Surabaya began to be reorganized.
After sending the prisoners of war to the concentration camp, Soerjadi and his aide, Sholihoen, escorted by two independence soldiers, arrived at the former Residence of Surabaya.
The Surabaya Residence building, a grand colonial structure in central Surabaya, stood right on the banks of the Kalimas River. Its function had now changed. The Dutch flag had been lowered. The Red and White fluttered atop the highest pole. The building had become the command center of the independence forces in East Java.
(Author's Note: Grahadi Building.)
Upon arriving at the Surabaya Command Center, Soerjadi strode quickly through the long corridors of the building, accompanied by his aide, Sholihoen, a young indigenous officer with a calm face and vigilant eyes.
They entered the command room to report to their superior, Lieutenant General Friedrich. The room was filled with cables, telegraph machines, and operators working without pause.
Soerjadi approached the main table. There he saw Lt. Gen. Friedrich staring at a map of Surabaya spread across a long table. Soerjadi and Sholihoen saluted and reported.
"Report! Surabaya has been secured. Tanjung Perak Harbor is safe!"
"Good work," Friedrich nodded, then turned to the communications operator. "Inform Central Headquarters. Surabaya is in our hands."
The operator nodded quickly and began tapping the telegraph keys. As the message was sent, Friedrich closed his eyes for a moment. He knew this victory was not the end. It was merely one chapter in a long war that would determine the life or death of a nation.
He opened his eyes again and looked at all the officers present. "After sterilizing Surabaya and eliminating the remaining disruptive elements, we will move to Madura."
"Execute!" all officers shouted in unison, including Soerjadi.
Although many officers there held the ranks of colonel and major, their responsibilities were now equivalent to those of a major general. This greatly overlapped with their formal ranks. Such was the difficulty of every revolutionary force rising against its colonizers.
…
Bogor, Dutch East Indies.
The truck carrying important prisoners of war—Governor Andries and his family, along with several other political figures of the Dutch East Indies—had arrived at Het Paleis te Buitenzorg, which in the future would be known as Bogor Palace.
The complex covered more than 28 hectares, including a small lake, a conifer forest, a Javan deer enclosure, and was crossed by the Ciliwung River, which split the grounds between the main palace and the small conifer forest to the east.
Günther stepped down from the lead truck and began issuing instructions to the other guards to immediately escort Governor General Andries inside.
"Unload them now!" Günther shouted.
Of course, since the palace had fallen into the hands of the fighters, all guards had been replaced. They were troops led by Lieutenant General Albert Eicheberg—the man who had succeeded in taking control of Bogor and its surroundings.
The prisoners were then unloaded one by one by the fighters. Maria and Caroline stepped down next, and finally Andries descended from the truck, gazing ironically at the palace before him.
This place had once been where he and his family spent their dry-season holidays from Batavia. Yet who could have imagined that he would return here as a prisoner under house arrest…
As the prisoners were escorted into the main building, a German man with black hair and gray-green eyes was already waiting for them. He wore a green KNIL uniform, his officer's cap tilted slightly. Lieutenant General insignia adorned his collar and shoulders.
He was Lieutenant General Albert Eicheberg, tasked with occupying Batavia.
"Welcome to your detention residence, Governor General," the man said in heavily accented German, greeting Andries and the others with enthusiasm and mockery.
"So it's true. You Germans are behind all of this…" Andries glared sharply at him, speaking German mixed with a thick Dutch accent.
"You could say that. But not entirely," Albert replied casually, then gestured to the guards to escort the prisoners inside. "We are merely following our commander."
As they walked, Andries caught the word "commander" and glanced at the lieutenant general insignia. Confusion crossed his face. "Commander? Who?"
"Oh my, you must be senile, aren't you?" Albert chuckled, then gave a clue. "A year ago, you personally awarded him a decoration."
"A year ago…" Andries thought hard, his eyes widening as realization struck. The native who had seemed loyal to the Dutch monarchy… "Soemarmo?"
"Bingo! You guessed correctly. Thank you for your hard work. With your help, we were able to position our forces throughout the Dutch East Indies." Albert clapped his hands along the palace corridor, like someone delighted that a riddle had been solved.
"…" Andries fell silent. He wanted to be angry, but it was all the result of his own mistake in delegating excessive power to Soemarmo. I should have listened to Herman back then.
Regret began to surface. He should have heeded Hermanus's warning. Granting various special privileges to that native was dangerous…
Perhaps an event like this would never have occurred during his administration.
They continued walking until they arrived at a double wooden door guarded by two indigenous soldiers in KNIL uniforms. Seeing Albert's arrival, they simultaneously raised their rifles to chest level in salute.
Albert returned the salute and spoke in Indonesian thick with a German accent. "Open the door."
"Yes, sir!" both shouted, lowering their weapons and opening the double doors.
Creaaak
The doors opened, revealing a luxurious bedroom with a velvet-embroidered bed.
Albert turned around and looked at the small family. His gaze settled on Andries. "This is where you will stay now. As long as you do nothing foolish, the guards here will not treat you roughly."
Yes, this bedroom was now the detention room for Andries and his family—the very room that had once been the master bedroom where Andries and Caroline slept.
Hearing Albert's words, Andries and Caroline could only nod slowly, while Maria, the little girl, clung to her mother in fear.
Albert then ordered the guards to place the family inside the room and instructed that the entire area around it be tightly secured, forbidding even staff from passing through.
He then turned and left, heading to his office—which had once been the Governor's study.