Kokoda, Page 4

  Friday, 20 February

  I’m writing an extra diary to report that Darwin has been bombed. Hundreds of people (civilians and military personnel), have evacuated the city and are heading south as fast as they can. The government has censored what the newspapers can report but Shirley overheard details at the air base.

  ‘There’s somewhere between two and three hundred casualties,’ she told us.

  ‘No doubt they’re mostly civilians,’ Uncle Jim said angrily. ‘If the Japs are such great warriors, why don’t they fight blokes who are trained to fight back instead of killing defenceless civilians?’

  ‘They’ll do that soon enough, I fear,’ Mum said.

  ‘All we can do is prepare to defend ourselves,’ Cousin Stanley said calmly. ‘We only have control over our defences and our military. We cannot control what the Japanese will or will not do. If we are ready for an attack we have a fighting chance of surviving.’

  Mum looked more alarmed than ever so I sat next to her. I wanted to say something to comfort her but stuttering makes confident communication very difficult.

  Sunday, 22 February

  Uncle Jim cheered Mum up when he told her that Townsville’s defences are rapidly improving. He took Bluey and me on a tour of inspection this week. He drove us 85 miles to Charters Towers, stopping along the way to inspect the construction of the fighter strips. Progress out bush is slower than in Townsville because the men are using Australian equipment and trucks which are much smaller and less powerful than the US ones.

  ‘I can’t wait till this war’s over,’ Uncle Jim told us, ‘so I can get my hands on the Yank’s heavy machinery.’

  ‘Surely they’ll take it back to the States,’ Bluey replied.

  ‘I doubt it, mate. It’s cheaper and more convenient for them to leave it here. The cost of the equipment they’ve shipped over is chicken feed to the US military budget. And besides, by the time the war’s over, this equipment will be old-hat. It’ll do us nicely, though.’

  At every airstrip we visited, Uncle Jim’s workers were happy to see him. At one site, though, they were standing around arguing with an officer.

  ‘He’s not RAAF,’ Uncle Jim pointed out. ‘He’s US Air Force.’

  Uncle Jim spoke to the officer then to the workers. From the truck’s cabin I could follow the action. It was like watching a movie without hearing the sound track. After a discussion the men went back to work. Uncle Jim then had a long chat to the officer before he drove off in his jeep and Uncle Jim returned to the truck.

  ‘What a circus! The Yank’s complaining they’re working too slow. He’s been standing over them telling them what to do and how and when, and trying to get them to speed up.’

  ‘Instead of which they downed tools and stopped working altogether,’ Bluey said with a grin.

  ‘Exactly. I pointed out to the Yank, who wasn’t a bad bloke, that they’re not military men and won’t respond to orders. In fact, if they think he’s standing over them they’ll get their backs up and deliberately go-slow. He tried to tell me they couldn’t go any slower. I assured him they could.’

  When we got back to town we visited two local families who have started to dig their own air-raid shelters. The council put up notices around town a few days ago. The notices also urged residents to board up their windows for additional protection in the event of a bombing raid.

  I got out of the truck during each visit and listened to what Uncle told them about their diggings. He knows a lot about safe construction. As he told one man, ‘There’s no point digging a shelter to protect your family from bombs only to have the structure collapse and kill them.’

  As we drove home I shouted, ‘Th-That’s him. That’s Beefy.’

  ‘The bully,’ Uncle Jim said knowingly. He slowed the truck and stared hard as we passed. ‘He’s not a picture of fitness.’

  ‘He’s had too many Queensland steaks,’ Bluey joked.

  Neither of them recognised Beefy so Uncle Jim said he couldn’t speak to his family. I was relieved: I didn’t want to be called a dobber.

  My part-time job is going very well. I move quickly whenever a ball needs to be retrieved from a pocket or a cue handed to a player. Americans are booking tables in increasing numbers which doesn’t please the long-time regulars. Another thing than annoys them is that the Americans talk while they play. That worried me initially because I thought they might want to talk to me. So far they haven’t but they did do one nice thing which forced me to say, ‘Th-Thank you, sir.’ One group gave me a tip as they left.

  ‘Don’t expect us to be so silly,’ one of the locals mumbled.

  Mum initially said I couldn’t work night shifts but Uncle Jim had a talk to her.

  ‘That’s when his boss needs the lad most,’ he told her. ‘Would you let him work nights if Stanley or I walked him home afterwards?’

  She finally agreed. ‘I’m getting soft,’ she said with the hint of a smile.

  Sunday, 1 March

  I have more bad news. The Australian light cruiser, HMAS Perth, was sunk by the Japs in the Java Sea (near the Dutch East Indies) with the loss of 328 men. And the island of Java has surrendered. The only hint of good news is that not all Aussie troops on the nearby island of Timor surrendered. About 400 soldiers fled into the jungle and are fighting as commandos. The Australian military can’t supply them because Japan controls the seas and skies. To survive they’ll have to live off the land and rely on the support of the natives.

  ‘The Japs are on our doorstep,’ Auntie Dorothy said. ‘And they won’t bother with niceties such as knocking and waiting to be asked in. They’ll kick down our front door and march in uninvited.’

  ‘Do you think the government intends to defend us?’ Mum asked. ‘I’ve heard rumours that they have a plan to draw a line across Australia just north of Brisbane. They’ll fight for everything south of the Brisbane Line and abandon the northern sector to the Japs.’

  ‘I’ve heard that rumour too,’ Shirley added, ‘and thought it had some truth until the government gave the Americans the go-ahead to expand Garbutt and build the fighter strips. They wouldn’t be wasting time, money and resources on all the new airstrips if they weren’t planning to defend them.’

  The Americans at the snooker hall (which they call a pool hall) sound keen to fight the Japs.

  ‘Let’s see if their action matches their talk,’ one of the locals said quietly.

  The compulsory bomb shelters and slit trenches are completed so school opens tomorrow. I’m not as scared about starting now as I was at the end of last year because I have Slim as a friend. Hopefully, if Beefy bullies me, Slim will stand by me just like the Americans are standing by us in our fight against the Japanese. Because I’m going back to school, Uncle Jim took me aside this evening and gave me an intensive training session. My arm-hold technique is slowly improving.

  ‘I had a good look at your bully boy as we drove passed the other day,’ Uncle Jim said. ‘He won’t move as fast as you so, if he tries to bully you, you should be able to out-manoeuvre him.’

  Mum and Auntie Dorothy went to an air raid information session at the hospital on Wednesday night. Shirley received training in her workplace. Cousin Stanley is responsible for the safety of the railway station staff and the shunting yard workers so he organised and attended their training.

  Sunday, 8 March

  I don’t think the government plans to abandon us. Soldiers are pouring into Townsville by train, day and night. Most are Americans. The military authorities are building accommodation for them all around the area. There’s not much for the troops to do at night so they hang around the cafes and pubs in the town centre. Many of them want to play pool but there aren’t enough tables. Some groups have been offering to pay big sums of money so the boss will give them a table ahead of others in the queue. Each time that happens, an argument erupts. The provosts (military police) have been called several times to settle things down.

  The money I earn in tips now ou
tweighs my wages which Mum is very happy about. I hand my earnings over to her as soon as I’m paid. The queues outside the snooker hall have created a job for Slim. He stands in line as a replacement for a group who then go off to the pub, returning later to reclaim their spot. They pay him generously for his services. The locals aren’t happy about that practice either or the fact that they have to queue up to play on ‘their’ snooker tables.

  The return to school went quite well. I didn’t have any trouble with Beefy and didn’t have to do much work either. We older boys spent a lot of time digging the slit trenches deeper. Mum wasn’t impressed that my school clothes got so dirty. The original slit trenches were quite narrow. Slim and I could move through them quite easily but Beefy became jammed and had to be pushed back then lifted out which required two teachers. Boys teased him and threatened to push him back in if he tried to bully them. I said nothing. I don’t like being teased and so don’t want to tease others, even my enemy.

  More bad war news: the Japs have captured all the main islands in the Dutch East Indies.

  ‘Japan has very few natural resources,’ Cousin Stanley told me. ‘The only way their military can fuel their planes, ships and vehicles is to control the oil fields in the Indies. Without the oil, their war machine will grind to a halt and they will lose the war.’

  ‘So, d-do you think they’ll stop there and not inv-v-invade Australia?’ I asked.

  ‘Who knows how the Japanese think,’ he replied.

  The Japanese advance towards Australia goes rapidly on. They’ve bombed Darwin again but didn’t do much damage this time. Uncle Jim suspects there’s probably not much more damage they can do. Their first raid did a lot. But their surprise fighter attack on Broome the day before cost as many as forty lives and destroyed the same number of aircraft.

  Sunday, 15 March

  Council and military work teams are flat out building additional defences around Townsville. The government seems determined to protect the big new US air base.

  Anti-aircraft guns have been installed on high points around town. When they practise firing, the noise is terrible. They practise by day as often as possible so people don’t have their sleep interrupted. Searchlights have been installed on the outskirts of town and, according to Uncle Jim, in a semi-circle twenty-five miles out.

  ‘Why d-do they need lights inland?’ I asked.

  ‘The Japs aren’t stupid, Archie,’ Uncle Jim replied. ‘When they bombed Darwin they hid their approach by flying inland, turning back and attacking from the direction in which the guns were not facing.’

  Uncle Jim also told us the government’s installed a new piece of technology called Radar (Radio Detection And Ranging) at three locations around town. One device is up on Castle Hill so now that part of town is out-of-bounds to civilians. Cousin Stanley has been up there to inspect the equipment as part of his militia training. He said it’s very impressive and will give the military early warnings of approaching enemy aircraft. Uncle Jim was curious to know how it works.

  ‘I am not qualified to give a proper explanation,’ Cousin Stanley replied. ‘I have only a simplistic understanding although I am keen to know more. Let me just say the device ‘reads’ the sky and registers a small blip on the screen for every aircraft it ‘sees’. The operator is trained to tell from the blips the direction of approaching aircraft and their distance from the device. As the planes fly closer, the blips grow larger on the screen.’

  We received a letter from Des during the week. He’s safe, but as Mum said, his letter was written before the Japs occupied Lae and Salamanua on the north coast of New Guinea. From there they can fly south and bomb Port Moresby or march down and take control of it.

  ‘There are no roads across the island,’ Cousin Stanley told her. ‘The Owen Stanley mountain range forms a natural barrier against the construction of a north-south road.’

  ‘When did the lack of a road stop the Japanese army from advancing?’ Mum asked. ‘It seems to me they can walk on water.’

  A famous US commander, General MacArthur, evacuated his base in the Philippines this week. His troops are surrounded and still fighting but he’s moved his headquarters to Australia.

  ‘He’s run away so he can fight another day,’ one of the local snooker players said.

  I had two short shifts at the snooker hall this week. I wish I could work more and attend school less often.

  Mum sat down and wrote to Des then asked me to make a copy for my diary.

  Sunday, 15 February

  Dear Des,

  It is two months since you last wrote. I realise you are at war, dear, but that’s exactly why I need more letters, not fewer. Please write frequently. I’ll do so too, now that I know the disappointment of NOT receiving letters.

  Everyone is well at this end. Defence preparations are under way around Townsville. I hope your battalion is also well protected. The Japs are not too far from you— and that causes me to worry for your safety and that of your friends.

  Your uncle, aunt and cousins are caring for us splendidly. I hope the level of care by the military is also first-rate. Archie and I both have part-time jobs which bring us enjoyment and wages.

  Your loving mother who misses her boy, Thelma

  PS Hello Des, Mum asked me to write this. Work at the snooker hall is fun and school is okay. You’ll be pleased to know I have a friend called Slim and not surprised to know I have an enemy (he’s called Beefy). I get teased less this year now that the kids know me. I’m getting used to living in Townsville.

  Your brother, Archie

  Sunday, 22 March

  Broome’s been bombed again but this time little damage was done and only one person killed. The Japs haven’t attacked Brisbane but blood’s been shed. Savage fights between black and white US soldiers have erupted in recent days. The provosts reportedly tried to calm things down by ordering the black troops to stay south of the Brisbane River. They’re not happy with being treated differently from the whites and sometimes defy the order. The provosts apparently use brute force to push them back but treat the white soldiers more leniently. I can’t understand why soldiers, enlisted in the same army, want to fight one another.

  Last week hundreds of servicewomen arrived in town. They’re called WAAAFs (Women’s Australian Auxiliary Air Force). Before their arrival, Townsville had been swamped by thousands of military personnel but they were all men. Cousin Stanley told us that although they’re a reasonably new section of the defence force, WAAAF numbers have increased rapidly since the Japs entered the war.

  ‘I’m not in agreement with women being in uniform,’ Uncle Jim said firmly.

  ‘Don’t be old-fashioned, dad,’ Shirley told him. ‘Women are perfectly capable of doing a range of jobs and by doing them they free up thousands of men for frontline service.’

  ‘WAAAFs will operate some of the new radar stations,’ Cousin Stanley added. ‘They have skills many men do not have. I think you should hold your judgment, father, until their skills have been put to the test.’

  I was surprised that Cousin Stanley spoke in such a manner to his father. I’d never speak like that to Mum. Uncle Jim shook his head but didn’t continue his opposition.

  ‘One good thing I will say about them,’ he said with a smile, ‘is that they look very snazzy in their WAAAF uniforms.’

  Auntie Dorothy didn’t look too impressed. ‘Your attention to detail is amazing, Jim, for a man who seldom compliments his wife on the way she dresses.’

  ‘I only noticed them because we were finishing off an air raid shelter near their barracks,’ he said defensively then added, ‘I like that dress you’re wearing, love. It suits you.’

  ‘And I like your clean shaven appearance, dear, because it exposes the embarrassed look on your face,’ she replied.

  A group of new arrivals who have also attracted attention are from a US non-combat battalion. What made them so noticeable amongst the thousands of new-arrivals, is that they’re all black men.
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  ‘They’re fine looking lads, so tall and strong,’ Auntie Shirley said with a wink in Mum’s direction. It was Uncle Jim’s turn to look slightly jealous.

  ‘They are stationed out of town,’ Cousin Stanley said. ‘The US military segregate black and white battalions.’

  ‘I hope there won’t be race riots in Townsville like we’ve seen in Brisbane,’ Uncle Jim commented.

  ‘Are there Ab-b-boriginal men in the Australian forces? I asked.

  ‘Of course,’ Cousin Stanley replied. ‘Several Aboriginal lads train with my militia group. Others I know from school enlisted earlier in the war and are now fighting overseas.’

  I asked if they had their own separate battalions and was told they didn’t.

  ‘Everyone lives and fights together in the Australian forces.’

  ‘Our forces might be in for a shake-up,’ Uncle Jim told us. ‘MacArthur, that US general who flew here from the Philippines, has been handed command of all Australian armed forces by the Australian Government. That includes Des’s lot in New Guinea. I hope the big-talking Yank is capable of making bold decisions which stop the Japs in their tracks.’

  ‘The US is far more willing and able to defend us than Britain,’ Cousin Stanley added. ‘Our small nation has been to the aid of the Mother Country twice in the past thirty years but she cannot or will not reciprocate now that we are threatened by imminent invasion.’

  A letter arrived from Des which must have crossed over with ours in mid-air or at sea. I’m not sure how the mail gets to and from New Guinea.

  Thursday, 12 March 1942

  Dear Mum and Archie,

  The Wet season is well and truly upon us. Bert and I dug a moat around our tent to drain away the rivers of rain. The drinking water is excellent and showering is easily done—just step outside. Keeping clean, however, proves very difficult. There is mud where-ever we walk, work or train.