Shortly after moving into the apartment, my parents enrolled my sister at the Redlands Ladies College. It also had a co-ed kindergarten. I was enrolled there, but because I was considered a ‘big kid’ for my age, my parents were told to enroll me in first grade in a state–supported school at the end of the term. Next term, I enrolled in Neutral Bay Elementary School.
Both Sydney and Australia were unquestionably provincial in 1939. Sydney only had one decent restaurant, ‘Princes’. Because the war had started, xenophobia was evident. During the seven years I lived there, the most popular song was “Buy British Buy”. When people talked about “Going Home”, they meant returning to the UK, even though they were third or fourth generation Australians who had never gone back. Being a ‘foreigner’ meant high visibility and I suffered my share of slurs, epithets, and bullying by older boys in school.
Some of it I brought on myself. My first year at Neutral Bay Elementary School, my class decided to play cricket, and not knowing a thing about the game, I ended up captain of one of the teams. They picked me because I was a ‘big kid.’ That was a major error. It became obvious when I delivered the first pitch not from the wicket at one end, but from the middle of the pitch. I never played the game again. Cricket was a very boring game and I never understood it.
My father established an import-export business and did moderately well. We bought a car, and drove all over the Sydney area and into the Blue Mountains to the west.
The Dutch ex-pat community in Sydney was very small. My parents became very good friends with the Dutch Consul, Kai Van Der Mandele and his wife, Dora. Kai later became the first Netherlands ambassador to the UN, and in 1960, ambassador to Denmark, where he hosted me in 1963 at their chancery. Their second good friend was a business man named “Appy” Van Roijen who had contacts with every key player in Sydney. He proved to be a valuable resource person for our family.
During the 1940-41 Australian summer, my parents decided it might be a good experience if my mother, sister, and I took a vacation on an Australian version of a “Dude Ranch” located in Porepunka, NSW. We travelled there first on an express train to a certain city (can’t remember it) and transferred to the ‘Porepunka local’ for a 25 mile trip. It consisted of several freight cars with a passenger car at the end. It was hot and there was no air-conditioning. Every time we came to a village, the train stopped, a rail car or two was offloaded or added or both. The train then proceeded to the next town to repeat the process. It involved a lot of shunting back and forth. As I recall, it took almost a half-day to travel the 25 miles to Porepunka, and the same was true on the way back.
At the ranch, I learned horse-back riding, played tennis and quoits, and experienced Australian rural culture. I also witnessed sheep shearing, and one day, they demonstrated how they slaughtered a sheep with a machete. I enjoyed horse-back riding the most.
We received word from the US consulate in Sydney that we were approved to immigrate to America in January, 1942. The Pearl Harbor attack delayed us. Soon after Pearl Harbor, the Netherlands East Indies (now Indonesia) was occupied by the Japanese and the remnants of the Netherlands East Indies Army retreated to Australia. My father sold his business and volunteered to serve with them. He reported for basic training at their Air Force base in Canberra, ACT. Meanwhile, my sister and I were sent to boarding schools in Orange, NSW. I attended Wolaroi College in Orange (now the Kinross-Wolaroi College) for seven months and it was a most unhappy experience. It was run by the Methodist Church and was far too strict for my taste.
During a vacation visiting with my mother in Sydney, we were woken one night by a loud explosion. The entrance to Sydney Harbor was protected by a series of nets which were opened to let shipping in and out. Apparently that night while a ship left, three Japanese kamikaze subs entered the harbor and one torpedoed a ferry boat, waking up the city. The subs were captured and put on display in a local park. We discovered that the submarines couldn’t have been more than 12 feet long, and were operated by one person.
After my dad completed basic training, he was given a special assignment in the Dutch East Indies Army headquartered in Melbourne. Although an enlisted man, he was put in charge of their entire financial and business operations, literally telling generals how to spend money. The Netherlands armed forces in Australia completed an analysis of all personnel and because my father was the only person who ran a business, he got picked for this plum assignment.
However, it became obvious to the Dutch East Indies Army officer corps this arrangement had its drawbacks. Whenever meeting with their counterparts from other allied armed forces, it was awkward for a buck private to discuss finances on behalf of officers. Consequently, within a year, he got promoted fast to corporal, a week later to Sergeant and then to Lieutenant. It improved the business negotiating position of the Netherlands East Indies Army in exile.
Knowing we would be in Melbourne for several years, my parents bought a newly-constructed ranch house on the city’s edge. It was a unique experience because during the summer, the paddock across the street was occupied by sheep herds. Some strayed into our front yard and left their ‘calling card’. When the sheep left in the fall, the paddock sprouted a large number of mushrooms, fertilized of course by sheep droppings. We harvested a lot of mushroom during those years.
My sister enrolled at the Geelong Grammar Ladies College in Geelong, Victoria, an Anglican (Episcopal) girl’s school. She was quite happy to be sent to boarding school and did well. During her final year (equivalent to the US Senior year in High School), she was elected a prefect, a student leader. That made her more stuck up and it stayed with her for her whole life.
My mother took me to visit three ‘public’ (private) schools, Melbourne Grammar (Anglican), Wesley College (Methodist) and Scotch College (Presbyterian). I did not like Melbourne Grammar and they did not like me. I liked Wesley College the best but they were over-enrolled and turned me down. Scotch College, the largest private prep school in the Southern Hemisphere, accepted me. The School was founded by the Presbyterian Church in 1851 and moved to a new campus during the 1920’s. I enrolled in their junior (elementary) School in 1943.
I did above average, learned Australian Rules Football and boxing, excelled in geography and history, did very poorly in penmanship, and made it through English, science, and math. Discipline was strict, reinforced by ‘six of the best’, namely caning one’s rump.
I was promoted to the Senior School in 1946 and completed the standard college prep first-year courses, but not at a distinguished level. The school was sports crazy. In 1946, Scotch College won the “head of the river” a rowing race with five other private schools of comparable size and when the opportunity came to try out for the “crew” I did. I was rejected during my physical because of an undisclosed heart condition.
I watched cricket (boring), Australian Rules football (really interesting), enjoyed the annual rival football game with Melbourne Grammar, and the annual public schools track meet. They also taught students boxing during gym classes. This skill helped me later.
Perhaps the most unusual event I recall occurred when Scotch College played Xavier College (Catholic) on their home turf. In 1946, Xavier fielded a team that literally wiped all the other schools off the floor. During previous years, they usually ended up last place. What changed?
Before the game started, we sat in the visitor’s stands while the Scotch College team warmed up. Suddenly church bells pealed from the Xavier Chapel on a hill behind the stadium. The Xavier football team in uniform charged out of the chapel running down the hill and onto what is now known as Chapel Field. They outweighed the Scotch College players by at least 20 lbs, and were clearly about 3 inches taller. The Xavier players were mostly Eastern European and Italian immigrants who survived Nazi concentration camps or in other ways during World War II. They clearly were older. To say they kicked the stuffing out of Scotch College that day is an understatement. They won the Public School Championship that year to no one’s surprise.
Their team achievement was just as