It would have been a welcome relief to escape . . . but it was unthinkable that I should leave this troubled island. What of the prince, and all of my other adopted Indonesian friends? What of Agung Nura’s dream of freeing his people from all foreign oppression? What of my promises, during those days at his coffee plantation, to do everything in my power to help bring about a free Indonesia? With the Dutch forfeiting the reins, perhaps for all time, the Japanese might be most willing to hand over the power to the Indonesians.

There was another prospect also. High Dutch officials were confident that the Japanese had overreached themselves and that the war could not last more than three months. If they were right, this was still the time for Indonesia to assert its bid for independence. I could still be of service to my adopted land.

I would remain in Surabaya, awaiting developments. Agung Nura warned me not to push my luck and to stay out of sight of the Japanese as much as possible.

The Japanese commander of Surabaya ordered all Europeans to come to headquarters and register. Agung Nura went with me to the commandant and asked that I be given an order exempting me from internment, and that I be granted also a traveling pass between Java and Bali. He explained that I was his adopted sister, having lived at his father’s palace for many years, and that I was an artist, completely divorced from war activity.

Apparently my native clothes, my sandals, my dyed black hair and my ability to speak both Balinese and Malay impressed the commandant. ‘A white Balinese,’ he murmured. Obviously sceptical of the prince’s account of our relationship, he gave me a knowing look and good-naturedly wrote out an exemption order and a traveling pass for ‘one Balinese by adoption, K’tut Tantri’.

While the Dutch were feeling the weight of the invader’s heel, the Indonesians too began to learn more about their new rulers. The men from Japan began confiscating food and goods to meet their pressing war needs. As produce and supplies became costly and scarce, less and less made their way into the hands of the Indonesians. Wherever it suited their purpose the Japanese roughly thrust Indonesians out of their jobs. Many Indonesians were thrown into prison on slight pretexts, without fair trial.

Agung Nura and his friends moved back and forth between Bali and the key cities of Java. They told me that Sukarno, in spite of his fiery radio speeches in support of the Japanese, was in sympathy with an underground movement that had sprung up under a Christian Indonesian, Amir Sjarifuddin. The whole purpose, I was told, was to prepare Indonesia for self-government – since the Japanese were obviously not disposed to grant this – the moment it might prove possible.

So it was that Agung Nura became involved in an underground resistance movement against the Japanese.