Koert Stijve’s Path: From the Netherlands to printing in Australia

From war-torn Netherlands to Adelaide, Resthaven Western Community Services client Koert Stijve, 91, has lived a life of resilience and adaptation.

Born in the northern city of Groningen in 1934, Koert’s early childhood was one of happiness and contentment. His mother looked after the home and children, while his father owned a hairdressing salon, having moved out of the building trade after breaking his hip. But it wasn’t long before uncertainty and instability in the region crept into their lives.

‘When I was six years old, the war came to the Netherlands,’ Koert says.

‘The Germans came and occupied our city and suddenly all the things we had from the colonies disappeared.’

‘For example, when I was in second grade our school received a care package from the Red Cross. I remember we were very happy as each of the students received an orange. We had not seen an orange for a very long time.’

‘By 1944, there was no food at home, and we could only get meals from the soup kitchens. One day, I went to get the food for my mother and my brothers, but when I got there, I was told there was no food to have. That was the start of the “Hunger Winter”.’

Koert’s father had been arrested by German soldiers during the war for speaking out against the occupation. As a prisoner, he was forced to work as a builder in Germany and was taken away from the family. With no food in their area, Koert’s mother took the children to live on her grandfather’s farm up north.

‘On the farm they had a big vegetable garden, as well as cows and pigs,’ Koert says. ‘Finally, we had something to eat.’

The farm was located near a bridge, and one day the family noticed some soldiers nearby. A friendly German soldier told them they were going to blow up the bridge to stop the allies and that they should close their blinds to protect the glass.

‘I don’t think it would have helped us much if we had,’ Koert says.

The German Forces were strategically bombing several bridges to halt the Allied advance. The strategy worked initially, but not long afterwards the Allied were able to come across and liberation came to the Netherlands.

‘On the day of liberation, there were many soldiers walking past our house – Canadians, British and Polish,’ Koert says.

‘The Canadians were very generous with their cigarettes and chocolates.’

Meanwhile, when the fighting stopped, Koert’s father found himself alone in a bombed-out building.

‘He didn’t know where he was, so he walked until he found the nearest Red Cross station,’ Koert says. ‘It was then he was told he was actually in the Russian zone! It was another eight months before he was able to come back across the border to the Netherlands.’

After the war, the family lived a quiet life.

‘We were very poor,’ Koert says.

‘My father talked many times of emigrating, looking particularly to Canada. But my mother was not keen. She hardly left the home, and even when we went on family holidays we would only go with my father. She stayed at home.’

Koert found work as a newspaper printer, learning the trade at the local paper near where the family lived. In 1962, he saw an advertisement in the paper for skilled workers to go to Australia on a 2-year working visa. He applied, and with his excellent English language skills (that he had picked up mainly from reading English novels), he was accepted to the program.

Koert travelled by boat and then train to England, from where he took the SS Stratheden to Australia, along with many English migrants and a group of about 40 people from the Netherlands, all of whom had different occupations and were on their way to work in Australia. Koert arrived in Fremantle, Western Australia, and then made his way to Adelaide.

‘I started working in the Government printing office on King William Road (between Parliament House and the city baths), printing the South Australian Government Gazette,’ Koert says. ‘I found it terrible to acclimatise to. The weather was so hot, and there was no air conditioning in those days. When it was hot, they would open the front and back doors to try and get a breeze in – but it wasn’t much good.’

And it wasn’t just the weather that was surprising Koert.

‘On one of my first days, I noticed a well-dressed man taking the milk bottles into Parliament House,’ Koert says. ‘I asked my colleague who it was, and he replied, “That’s the Premier!” (Sir Thomas Playford). I was taken aback! Surely, he would have people to do that for him, I thought!’

Koert was living in hostel accommodation behind the Adelaide Railway Station. One evening, he was asked if he wanted his ‘tea’.

‘I said yes and was surprised to be handed a plate of food, rather than a cup of tea that I was expecting,’ Koert laughs. ‘There was another time when I went to a party and was asked to ‘bring a plate’. Not knowing this meant a plate of food, I took along an empty plate to eat off of!’

After a while, Koert was convinced by friends living in Melbourne to relocate there. He got a job working as a printer for The Age.

‘It was a good job, but I was feeling a bit homesick,’ Koert says.

‘I took a three-month trip home to the Netherlands, giving up my job in the process.’

After three months, he returned to Melbourne and got his permanent resident’s visa. His brother-in-law, who was living in Tasmania, visited him in Melbourne, and the two of them moved back to Adelaide.

‘I went to the labour exchange, and there was only one job for a printer here,’ Koert says. ‘It was for a small printing office that did commercial printing, such as business cards and flyers. The workshop had signs everywhere with instructions on what not to do. It was not a good place to work.’

Koert later found a job doing printing at The Advertiser newspaper.

‘The Advertiser was all “hot type”,’ Koert says.

‘We would place the articles and the advertisements and make up the whole page. Things changed when a few of our managers were sent to America to experience the latest in computing and desktop publishing. That was the start of the end for printers. The journalists would type the story into the computer, and that would be used directly to go onto the page.’

‘There was no brain work in printing anymore. Computers killed print. Our trade you can now see in museums.’

At age 62, Koert retired from The Advertiser.

‘They were offering redundancies, and I decided I might as well take it – more time for stamps and 8 ball,’ Koert says.

Koert has worked across the spectrum of jobs in printing, from type making and type setting to hand setting. His knowledge of the industry is impressive, albeit an industry that is almost unrecognisable compared to how it was when he started.

Continuing to embrace life with curiosity and community-mindedness, Koert is supported to live in his own home by Resthaven Western Community Services. He spends time enjoying his hobbies of stamp collecting and 8-ball, as well as engaging with others, and taking part in social activities with Resthaven Western Community Services.

Thanks for sharing your story, Koert!