a Missionary

When Germans Flogged a Missionary An Incident in New Guinea in 1914

I often have sought, in 25-years-old re cords, for an authentic account of the flogging of Rev. W. H. Cox, by the Germans in New Guinea, in 1914; but I never could locate the story. But here, m “Why Gather Moss?”, a new book by George Clune, are all the details. Clune was a member of the Australian force in Rabaul, and was one of the party which dealt with the incident. . Rev. W. H. Cox was a Methodist mis sionary, whose station was at Namatanai, New Ireland, but, when war broke out, he happened to be in Rabaul, and was one of the British arrested by the Ger

mans. When the Australians occupied Rabaul, he was released, and returned to his station.

Australian troops had gone to Kavieng (northern end of New Ireland), but communications were so bad that the little German community far to the south, at Namatanai, were left alone. They did not realise their position—apparently, they thought the Australians were afraid of them—and they were very cocky, and racial feeling ran high.

For some obscure reason, they decided that the returned missionary was a British spy, and must be dealt with according to the laws of the Fatherland. One day, half a dozen of them, more or less drunk, seized him and carried him into a public place.

The Germans had a system of punish ing delinquent natives. The latter were put, face down, over a barrel, and, with a stout cane, they were given “ten alonga arse”, or twenty, or thirty, as the case might be. It was a painful and humi liating punishment. The gallant Huns of Namatanai stripped the British mis sionary, forced him down over a log, and gg-ve him thirty lashes.

A little later, sober, they realised what was likely to happen and, like cowardly curs, they fled into the jungle.

Several days later, Mr. Cox arrived in Rabaul and told his story. A medical examination confirmed the brutality of his treatment.

Colonel Holmes, Australian Commander, sent troops at once to Namatanai. The search was long and arduous; but event ually the gentlemen were rounded up, taken to Rabaul, tried, found guilty, and sentenced to what they had given the missionary—“thirty alonga arse”.

“This operation was carried out in the presence of all available troops, formed into a hollow square,” says Mr. Clune.

“Natives, and citizens of the town, were forbidden the area. With their bare, pink, fat. German buttocks exposed to the tropical sun, the guilty prisoners whimpered like lost curs as they lay across the barrel, and received a well deserved dose of their own medicine. Be tween moans and wails, they promised that they never again would give a Britisher ‘thirty alonga arse’.”

But what is the value of a German promise, anyway?—R.