A Covert Affair (23 page)

Most of her time and attention those first few days was focused on the POWs, but Jane could feel the political climate subtly shifting, particularly in Batavia. She had not been back to the quaint Dutch town since since skipping out on her marriage six years earlier, and the colonial outpost looked much the same, with most of the fighting having been pushed beyond its broad, tree-lined boulevards and handsome, white-stuccoed buildings. Its citizens had clearly been through the war, however, and Batavia had emerged from its tropical languor, its streets
now roiling with riotous crowds steeped in the hatred born of oppression and racial bitterness. Three and a half years of Japanese occupation and intensive anti-Western and anti-imperialist propaganda had made an impression.

The Indonesians had greeted the Allied mission with cautious optimism, though it was clear from the first that they resented the presence of the Dutch and the English, which smacked of a return of their old colonial masters. The red-and-white nationalist flag was flying over every building where the Japanese and Allies were not in residence, and as far as Jane could see it was
“the only flag of any kind in evidence.”
Everywhere they went, the once-familiar streets were covered in revolutionary slogans: “Government of the People, by the People, for the People” and “Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness.” These legends and many more, lifted from the Gettysburg Address and the Declaration of Independence, were crudely painted in three-foot letters on buildings, buses, and the sides of houses all over downtown Batavia. The nationalists had established their own newspaper,
Soeara Indonesia Merdeka
(Voice of Free Indonesia), and a radio station that broadcast anti-Dutch programs.

As a precaution, Jane had painted big American flags on the sides of the Cadillac they drove to the camps, because it was obvious that
“Americans were the only Allies liked by the Indonesians.”
The Indonesians thought the Americans were their liberators—not the English or Dutch. The United States had defeated the Japanese and would now help them secure their independence.
“In the event,”
Jane noted, “they thought wrong.”

Four days after her arrival, she filed her first impressions to her control, Lloyd George, the civilian reports officer assigned to funnel her intelligence to OSS Washington. Stating that in the past few days the political situation had grown
“increasingly tense,”
Jane summarized recent developments, drawing on intelligence gathered by both herself and her main local contact, an Indonesian OSS agent
*
code-named “Humpy.”

The city is
full of rumors, many over-exaggerated, and all difficult to check. The three opposing forces—the Allies, the Japanese, and the Indonesian nationalists—are largely unaware of each other's intentions. The Japanese, being under orders, seem to be the only ones who have a definite program of action; they are required to keep law and order, and to facilitate Allied demands. To all appearances they are complying to the “letter.” However, incidents are reported hourly. Dr. van der Plas, ranking Dutch official, has been temporarily removed to the HMS
Cumberland
in protective custody. On September 17, a group of nationalists attacked Tjideng internment camp (European women and children) and two Japanese guards were reportedly killed by the nationalists; a policeman was beaten and then jailed by the nationalists after trying to break up a meeting; a Japanese ordered a nationalist flag removed from a building and was killed by the crowd.

The two main sources of tension appeared to be public resentment of the Allies' dependence on the Japanese for maintaining order and the Dutch intransigence in regard to Indonesian demands, but Jane foresaw far more serious problems. She identified four main areas of potential conflict. First, it was clear that throughout the Indies, but particularly in Java,
“the great mass of the people are violently anti-Dutch.”
Second, her “Source” (“Humpy”) maintained it was certain that the Indonesians wanted “nothing short of independence.” Although the Indonesians disliked the Japanese intensely, they cared for the Dutch even less. The view held by the educated classes was that they had always known the Japanese promises were “phony,” but at least the Japanese had declared Indonesia independent, which was more than the Dutch were willing to do. Third, the Indonesian president, Sukarno, and his vice president, Mohammad Hatta, had been the two chief “Japanese puppets” during the occupation. One of her sources had confirmed reports that the Dutch planned to execute both men as traitors who had collaborated with the Japanese. Both men had run afoul of Dutch authorities before: Hatta had been exiled and Sukarno jailed for inciting Indonesians to
riot against their colonial masters long before the beginning of the war. Meanwhile, their supporters were ready
“to resist by force of arms a return of Dutch rule.”
There were secret political meetings every night, caches of weapons all over, and the organization and training of an armed force.

While Sukarno was still at large, on September 19 he managed to organize a mass meeting of his followers in the Koenigsplein, the main public square in front of the Governor-General's Palace. Afraid the rally might touch off an uprising, Admiral Patterson ordered the Japanese military police to stop the meeting. When the Japanese advised that this might prove even more inflammatory, Patterson commanded them to make sure the meeting was conducted in an orderly fashion. The rally came off as scheduled and was a completely peaceful gathering. Sukarno briefly addressed the crowd, and they all sang “Indonesia Raja,” the new national anthem, and shouted
“Merdeka!”
(Freedom!). Even though Sukarno stated that although united in their desire for independence, the Indonesians wanted no bloodshed, the nervous Europeans sent in troops.
“With a supreme lack of political acumen the Allies, i.e., the British and the newly liberated Dutch, had the Japanese tanks surround the rally with their guns,”
Jane reflected later, “which certainly made a very bad impression on the Indonesians.”

Her fourth point, and the one she knew was of keen interest to Washington, concerned the collaboration of the nationalists with the Japanese. To Jane, it looked as though the position of the Japanese was
“ambiguous”
at best:

On the one hand they are reported to be depressed and demoralized as they are afraid they will not be able to keep order or protect Allied nationals (Source; Col. Dewer). On the other hand, the situation is one which they have been advocating and preparing the Indonesians for throughout the whole war. Source maintains that they are at present providing the nationalists with money and arms, and the nationalists are awaiting word from the Japs to side against the Allies when the occupation forces arrive.

Jane added that she herself had observed Japanese officials riding around in cars flying the nationalist flag. Based on all the intelligence she had gathered, Jane concluded,
“It looks as if [the Japanese] are playing the double game: promoting strife subversively and at the same time making sure they are not held responsible for it by cooperating to the fullest extent with the Allies and obeying implicitly all Allied demands.”

Jane attached a separate memorandum outlining practical concerns relating to her agent (Humpy). She included details of how he had secretly slipped back onto the island, sustained an injury in the process, but still managed to make his way to Central Java, where he landed a job as a driver for the Kempeitai. He knew a great deal about what was going on, and what is more had a number of contacts who he said would be willing to work for them. Crockett had recommended, and she concurred, that Humpy be sent to Singapore and interrogated by Major Koke. She added that he wanted to leave Java, as he had blown his cover on a number of recent occasions, including coming to the hotel for their first meeting, and felt that his position there was
“precarious.”

Ten days after they arrived, Crockett declared their quarters too cramped and commandeered the Governor-General's Palace. Admiral Cunningham had decided to remain on board his ship, so the place was up for grabs. A huge, marble colonial mansion, it held out the promise of living in “royal splendor.” Just before they were scheduled to move, however, they all ended up barricaded in the Hôtel des Indes—
“waiting (like dopes) for all hell to break loose,”
Jane reported to Lloyd George. She noted that the property request (i.e., the task of protecting American property belonging to former POWs) that came through that day was “practically laughable,” given that they “couldn't even find out what was happening in the street let alone in Pladjoe.”

She reported that the POW situation was under control. All the internees had been brought out, except for a few who were remaining by choice and were being taken care of. The outer islands had not been “cased completely,” as their C-47 junket plane had been grounded, but it would get done. She indicated that she had not finished the POW depositions, explaining that the delay was due to the fact that they had
no confidential secretaries and she had to type up all the classified material herself.
“All in all the thing is like a stage set by Dali, and I expect the Rockettes to dance out of Des Indes dressed as Kempei,”
she wrote. “And we wouldn't be a bit surprised.”

A group of British and American journalists arrived and managed to arrange a conference with Sukarno. Jane and Major Crockett attended the no-holds-barred question-and-answer session. The nationalist leader proved to be a cool customer. He had an answer for everything. One correspondent asked him what he meant when he had said in a radio broadcast six months earlier that he, personally,
“would drive the British and Americans back into the sea if they tried to invade Java.”

“The broadcast was prepared by the Japanese,”
Sukarno replied with equanimity. “There was nothing I could do about it.”

“What was your attitude toward Allied fliers forced down over Java?” asked another correspondent. Jane had heard terrible stories about the fate of Allied planes lost over the jungle. In some cases, patrols reported finding the fuselage intact with all of its occupants butchered by Indonesian guerillas, leading some pilots to say they would prefer to pull into a high dive and “finish the job quickly.”

“I wasn't able to take care of them,” Sukarno, unruffled, explained. “I had no underground organization, no way of acting.”

The reporter pointed out that there had been underground organizations in Thailand and Malaya, not to mention most of the European countries that were occupied during the war, that they had all managed to aid Allied fliers, and that people in those countries who had cooperated with the enemy to the extent Sukarno had were now on trial for their lives. At this, Sukarno shrugged and spread his hands.

Afterward, Crockett met with Sukarno and informed him that the American headquarters was “neutral” and he could call on them whenever he had a problem to discuss. The major reminded him that he had
“no authority to act”
and should be considered only as “blotting paper,” willing to listen and absorb anything he had to say. Sukarno called the next day and continued to do so, coming himself or sending one of his cabinet members almost daily over the next few weeks.

Jane began work on a detailed account of their interviews with Sukarno and his four cabinet members, outlining the organization and aims of the Republic of Indonesia and setting out its policies, constitution, and aims, as well as how it might react to British and Dutch military intervention. But even as she compiled her report, British and Indian troop-carrying planes and ships were converging on Java. These were the advance echelons of the forces under Lieutenant General Sir Philip Christison, Patterson's replacement and the newly appointed Allied commander in chief for the East Indies. Shortly before his arrival, Christison held a press conference in which he outlined his military mission in Java. When asked about a possible hostile reception, he responded that he had no reason to expect any such thing. He had been told, he said, that Indonesians
“liked the Dutch.”
It was frightening that anyone could be so misinformed.

Despite her official status as an observer, Jane was incapable of remaining a neutral. She was so eager to show Washington—and the world—that Sukarno's new government was capable of running the country that when he complained in one meeting that their efforts to restore trade were being blocked because no British or Dutch ships would carry Indonesian goods, Jane again took matters into her own hands. The first American merchant-marine freighter had just arrived at Tanjung Priok harbor, delivering a load of army trucks. Jane tracked down the captain and asked him to take a shipment of raw Javanese rubber that was ready to go. At first he refused, protesting that his ship was not equipped to handle the cargo, but when she ordered him to do it, he reluctantly complied. She patrolled the dock, pistol in hand, making sure they loaded the huge consignment. Although she meant well, she later heard that during the journey back to San Francisco the rubber had melted in the hot sun and had to be scuttled before it sank the vessel.

With the arrival of the Dutch forces, under Lieutenant General Ludolph Hendrik van Oyen, the mood in the city changed dramatically. The incidents of violence increased, and Dutch troops, armed with machine guns and automatic rifles, guarded the entrance of their headquarters, located next door to that of the OSS unit on Oranje Boulevard. Crockett recorded his observations of the deteriorating situation:
“There began to appear in the streets roving patrols of trigger-happy Dutch and Ambonese soldiers. They shot at anything that looked suspicious, and when hunting was poor, they were not above forcing an Indonesian house and dragging off, without charges or warrants, some or all of the inhabitants.” The major was particularly disgusted by the fact that the undisciplined Dutch troops were making use of American trucks, clearly marked with the U.S. insignia, which they had somehow hijacked from a recent lend-lease shipment. They were mounting machine guns on the trucks and mowing down civilians. He suspected it was a device to imply that the Americans were in sympathy with the Dutch.