Back then, conscription was very common

During the walk in the Drunense dunes last Wednesday, December 11, with my Saskia, our dogs Siena & Giulia and dear friends Erna & Peter with dogs Filippo, Pupa and Viola from Umbria Italy, I remembered that I had also been there in 1978 during my military service and was digging a shooting pit.

As if it were yesterday, I remember being called up as a conscript in batch 78-2. Peace was not a given at that time. The Second World War was not far behind us and from 1947 to 1991 we lived in the middle of the Cold War, a period of armed peace between the communist and capitalist worlds. 

I was over 21 years old and no longer expected to be called up as a conscript and I already had a permanent job at Drukkerij Kroondruk on the 2e Hogeweg. Director Kroonder was, to say the least, “not amused” that I had to serve for fourteen months. He had hired me after I told him that I would no longer be called up and yes, after my service he was obliged to hire me again. My father, a professional soldier, was not quite cheering but was delighted that I was called up and he told me that they were going to make a man of me.

On February 28, 1978, I left Driebergen-Zeist station for the Isabella barracks in 's-Hertogenbosch, where I received basic training with hundreds of other boys aged 17 and up from all walks of life. We were squeezed hard and learned to march and follow orders without question. My peers and I had studied longer and were often better educated than the cadre, which meant that we sometimes wanted to argue about orders that we considered nonsensical and unwise. Our superiors did not appreciate that and they had difficulty keeping this group of wayward conscripts in line. An order is an order and with arguments such as that they had been doing it this way for many decades, we carried out the orders. In retrospect, this reasoning was understandable, because if you have an argument before every action, the enemy will walk all over you. But still.

But I made the best of my military service because there was no escape. The training included a lot of marching with full packs, speed marches of 50 km at 6 km per hour and very little rest, blindly following orders, digging foxholes in the Drunense Dunes, setting up a pup tent, etc. Every soldier had a pup tent or tent half and you had to find a buddy to tie his tent half to yours so that you were dry and out of the wind and cold. The marching was done with full packs and with a so-called Berelul on your back. This was a sleeping bag that was rolled up in your pup tent so that it remained dry at all times. This roll hung over a knapsack (large rucksack) with clothing, shoes etc. on your back to which a pimple also hung and all that was attached with cross straps over your upper body. I also had a Garand rifle from the Second World War in my hands, weighing almost 5 kg and 1100 mm long. In total 37 kg while I weighed less than 60 kg. After my military service I weighed only 54 kg and when we got married the smallest men's size was too big and the largest boy's size was too small so I had to have a wedding suit made.

After the training 

After the training I went to the ready meal at the StaffStaff Company 101 Engineer Combat Groups in Wezep near Zwolle where I also designed, sawed out, painted and was allowed to unveil a company weapon. The result of the placement was almost twelve months of training every few weeks in Germany in the area of Lüneburger Heide and towards the river Elbe which was the border with the former East Germany. The Garand was exchanged for a much lighter and smaller Israeli Uzi submachine gun. Later a transfer followed the Staff Company 1st Army Corps at the King Willem III barracks in Apeldoorn and so I climbed from soldier, soldier  to Corporal. As a soldier and Corporal you were a man, tool or instrument. After my promotion to Sergeant I was a non-commissioned officer and suddenly a person and commander of the mobile Repro and printing house.

When we weren't on exercise, I was allowed to ride with a service buddy in his VW Beetle to Zeist on Wednesday evenings. He dropped me off at Landgoed Vollenhove and drove via Soesterberg to Rotterdam because the A28 had only been in use since 1986. My current wife was already waiting there on her bike and that same evening I left for the army camp again. After evening roll call on Friday the same ritual and back again on Sunday evening. My friends had been in the army at a younger age so I only saw them on Saturday evening at the Rettichini dance school on the Henriëtte van Lijndenlaan "dancing with Janny & Nico Jansen". 

Anecdote 

During an exercise in Germany I was billeted at a farm. We ate in a joint mess for officers and non-commissioned officers. As a corporal I had a non-commissioned officer function with the rank of sergeant. At the long table I sat diagonally opposite a colonel, who remarked to everyone present that he did not like the fact that a corporal was sitting at the table with him. At that moment I did not dare say anything and felt quite uncomfortable. But during the night I suddenly knew and the next day I sat opposite the same man and after he made another such sarcastic remark I stood up. My answer was: "Colonel, my father is also a Lt. Colonel in the Air Force, but my father has never said that I should just eat in the kitchen". The man's face turned bright red and swollen, it became deathly quiet and my legs were shaking. There was a roar of laughter around me and I couldn't do the whole exercise right with that man. 

During my military service I shot all kinds of weapons, drove tracked vehicles and land rovers, flew in helicopters.   

On an exercise in Germany I once rented a horse from a farmer because I had to maintain the connection between the troops on foot. Everywhere I was received with much laughter because of the inventiveness of that idiosyncratic Van Roosmalen. You can find all these photos in the photo gallery.

Did they make me a man? 

When asked whether I became a man during my military service, I can answer with a resounding: no. But I did learn to function under the most extreme and changing (weather) conditions together with my mates and friends, to survive and never to reach the finish line alone but always together. Equal and human treatment, getting the best out of people by giving trust and praise, motivating and stimulating them and by letting them find solutions themselves. Putting them in their power as people and not exhausting them as a tool or accessory. Together you can do much more and further than you think. Every person matters at his or her level and background.

Conscription postponed 

In 1996, the last group of conscripts was discharged and the Netherlands switched to a professional army. Incidentally, conscription was not abolished, but in 1997 the conscription was postponed and I would certainly not find it strange in these uncertain times if it were revived. For girls and boys who cannot or for whatever reason do not want/may not, a social conscription would be very useful. 

Living and working together & Peace and Freedom are not something you achieve alone.

Shaking up causes panic 

This weekend we heard from our daughter Charlotte that our granddaughters Isabel 15 and Linde 13 called her in panic after hearing Mark Rutte's speech with a "mom, war is coming". Yes, our Mark, as Secretary General of NATO, made an appeal to shake us up but never realized what his words would do, especially to children. During his twelve-year reign, he constantly (just like his predecessors) cut back on defense and never kept to the NATO agreement to budget at least 2% of the gross domestic product for Defense. And now that he is NATO Secretary General, there is suddenly a completely different Mark Rutte. My mother used to say that politics is dirty and that it is. 

You can find more photos from my military service in the gallery on the website.   

I am now going to rest for a month and wish you all much Peace & Tolerance, Blessed Christmas and a Healthy 2025.   

Until the next walk at Buitenplaats Wulperhorst from 1950-1994 called Swagermankamp where the Staff of the Commando Tactical Air Force was stationed with my father as Head of Tactical Communications, Arnie Della Rosa