Luitenant ten Brink was a young Dutch officer and friend of Dr. Wøller who was killed in Atjeh en Onderhorigheden during the Aceh War.
Wøller described him after death: “He looked in death so amazingly young, that blonde powerfully built Hollander with his large hands and feet, still somewhat loose and boyish of build despite his 23 years; there went from this dead body a certain, boyish charm, which, with the seriousness of death, led thoughts toward Michelangelo’s David.”
Ten Brink was “Dr. Esrom’s good, young friend, with whom he had traveled, from whom he had shortly before parted and whom he had to find again on this improbable place. With whom he had drunk and played, by whom he had been teased, to whom he had lent money, and for whom he had felt the deep and inexplicable sympathy, that is a first condition — and at the same time almost the only necessary — for a real friendship between men.”
After closing his friend’s eyes, Wøller “went to the wounded. Some hours of hard work made them transportable; they were carefully carried into the ambulance wagon, and very deliberately the train set itself in motion toward Kotta Loempoer.”
The train arrived at dawn. On the platform waited his widow, “clinging to the arm of Overste van Rieten”, dressed “in a white morning gown, bathed and fresh as the morning itself.”
See Also
Source
Als officier van gezondheid naar Nederlandsch-Indië, by Dr. Johan Wøller, trans. Greta Baars-Jelgersma (Utrecht: Erven J. Bijleveld), pp. 186-188.
Luitenant ten Brink was a young Dutch officer and friend of Dr. Wøller who was killed in Atjeh en Onderhorigheden during the Aceh War.
Wøller described him after death: “He looked in death so amazingly young, that blonde powerfully built Hollander with his large hands and feet, still somewhat loose and boyish of build despite his 23 years; there went from this dead body a certain, boyish charm, which, with the seriousness of death, led thoughts toward Michelangelo’s David.”
Ten Brink was “Dr. Esrom’s good, young friend, with whom he had traveled, from whom he had shortly before parted and whom he had to find again on this improbable place. With whom he had drunk and played, by whom he had been teased, to whom he had lent money, and for whom he had felt the deep and inexplicable sympathy, that is a first condition — and at the same time almost the only necessary — for a real friendship between men.”
After closing his friend’s eyes, Wøller “went to the wounded. Some hours of hard work made them transportable; they were carefully carried into the ambulance wagon, and very deliberately the train set itself in motion toward Kotta Loempoer.”
The train arrived at dawn. On the platform waited his widow, “clinging to the arm of Overste van Rieten”, dressed “in a white morning gown, bathed and fresh as the morning itself.”
See Also
Source
Als officier van gezondheid naar Nederlandsch-Indië, by Dr. Johan Wøller, trans. Greta Baars-Jelgersma (Utrecht: Erven J. Bijleveld), pp. 186-188.