Samoan women during the First World War

Western Samoa became involved in the Great War of 1914 as a result of being a German colony since 1900. On August 29, 1914, New Zealand troops marched into the capital Apia, and seized control of the German administration. The German population was rounded up, their properties and businesses confiscated and most of the men were sent to prison camps in New Zealand.

The War may have been fought in Europe but the effects were certainly felt in the Pacific. With most German males arrested, their wives and families endured psychological, social and economic struggles due to the loss of their men and livelihoods.

These stories are based on family history research.



The story of Malo (right side, in floral print holding a child)
I was one of three sisters, born in the village of Poutasi, Falealili in 1886. My father was high chief Tuatagaloa. I was a full-blooded Samoan; a ‘native’ is what the Siamani (Germans) called us. I ended up marrying one of those Siamani. His name was Theodor Wulf and we married in 1904 when I was 18 years old. He was 26.

Germany needed copra (dried coconut) for oil and the islands were covered with coconut plantations. Theodor bought 65 acres of land in my village and we built our home at the border, near the sea. It took a long time to clear the forest for planting. We grew coconuts, cocoa and coffee and kept a herd of cattle. The cows kept the coconut trees healthy by eating away the weeds.

Theodor also inherited his father Hans’ Gaogao plantation in the nearby district of Lefaga when he died in 1893 so he divided his days between us and Gaogao. His younger brother Edward was married and living on Savai'i Island running his own plantation so Theodor was on his own. Funny thing with these Germans, the girls were not allowed to inherit any shares of the plantation so Tetoa's (Theodor) sisters had already married and left for Germany and America by 1910.

In 1905, I gave birth to our firstborn son, Heinrich Diedrich Michael. I wanted a Samoan name but Theodor said it was "useless". "My son would not be accepted in school with a Samoan name", he said. He was right of course; the only school was in Apia and only the pālālagi (white people) were allowed. We had five more children – Bernadette, Marie, Otto, Theodor and Cecilia. They were white with green-blue eyes like their father except for my Theodor; he was darker, like me.

We had Melanesian and Chinese workers who gathered the coconuts under Theodor’s watchful eyes. He was ruthless and everyone was afraid of him. He showed me how to milk the cows and churn the milk into butter and cheese. I didn't like the taste of cheese but I loved butter.

When we heard news that war had started, Theodor was worried about how it would affect us. By mid-September 1914, the train that took the coconuts to town arrived with soldiers. They were from New Zealand they said, they were here to take over all German holdings, under orders from Great Britain.

My husband was taken by these soldiers and for weeks I did not hear from him. Why did they take him? He wasn't fighting in the war! He wasn't causing any trouble. I left my children with my family and took a horse into town to find him.

In town I found many women on the wharf, crying. Their men were being herded onto a ship. I found Theodor and I cried because he looked tired. That was the last time I would see my husband for five years.

I went back home to Poutasi and tried to be strong for my children. I was so scared because Theodor was gone and these new pālālagi from New Zealand were threatening to take my lands. They had already taken Gaogao. I was also scared that the workers and palagis were not going to listen to me, a Samoan woman. And what would my village think of me? Fiapalagi (wanna-be white) is what they'd call me. Nevertheless, I will take my husband's place until he returns. God I hope he returns!

Sources:
Photo from Wulf Family Collection
Wulf, L., personal communications, May 15, 2014



    Caroline Berking is seated in the photo

Caroline Berking's Story
I was born Caroline Mathilde Netzler August 11, 1878 in Western Samoa. In 1899 I fell in love and married Rudolf Berking, a German customs officer who had just arrived from Hawaii. We had three children, our oldest Elizabeth, our only son Rudolph Junior and our baby Ernestine.

In late August 1914, New Zealand soldiers arrived in Apia and took control. All the German men, including my Rudolph, were taken as prisoners of war and sent to internment in New Zealand. We owned 140 acres of coconut plantation in Letogo, east of the capital, Apia and when he was taken away I had to look after everything.

We had some very hard times. My precious baby daughter Ernestine had passed the year before from the influenza. Elizabeth was already in school in Germany so it was just Rudolf Junior at home to help me. It was very hard and most of the time I was too sick to get up. I fear my health is never going to improve. Oh how I wish Rudolf was here!

June 30, 1916 I've just received a letter from Germany from my husband's sister. It's about my darling Elizabeth. My poor darling had died of pneumonia. Oh God no! Not another one of my babies! I never got to say goodbye...oh my poor baby, so young. It can't be true! My beautiful girl, she was only 16. Oh I feel so helpless, being here when my Lizzie was dying...I must write and tell Rudolf. He will be so heartbroken. I only have my son now.

1918 and the War has finally ended. Rudolf should come home soon. I've lost everything, my husband is a stranger to me, I've lost my precious children...what is left?

Postscript
In 1919, Rudolf was released and returned to Samoa. A few months later, Rudolf Junior left for dental school in Berlin and died not long after. Caroline and Rudolf were divorced before the Second World War broke out and she died May 29, 1949, alone.

Rudolf remarried (and divorced) twice more and was the last of the pioneering Germans to die in 1972, at his home in Apia.

Sources: