My grandfather fought for queen and fatherland in Indonesia (then the Dutch East-Indies) in what is called the
politionele acties. He was part of the tenth infantry regiment. He sometimes talks about his experiences there, both sad memories as well as fond memories of his comrades. I'll give examples of both.
Not all the soldiers could swim. When they had to cross a river, they'd attach a rope to trees at both sides so the guys had something to hold on to. However, one time the river was too powerful and one of the guys was lost and never found again.
Near the end of his time there, before the Indonesians took over control, my grandfather, together with a few of his comrades, had the honour of lowering and removing the Dutch flag from the governor's palace in Batavia (for the last time in history, I have to add). Once they were outside and looked back to the palace, they could see the Indonesian flag being raised. But they were proud that they had saved our flag from being dishonoured.