Late Frank Rostier

An Appreciation

ON January 31, 1941, at the young age of 37, Frank Rostier died at his post in Fiji.

No, not a soldier —a wireless officer in the employ of the Fiji Government. The Rostier of Canton Island. One of that small band who made history whilst two big democracies argued as to which of them owned a strip of sand in mid- Pacific, and who finally decided amicably that it did not much matter, so long as no one else did.

He had been a dweller in many lonely places, and at the time of his death he was a resident at the Grand Eastern Hotel, Labasa —the first hotel that the sun of the new day shines on—the nearest hotel to the 180th meridian. He was wireless officer and postmaster at Labasa, the sugar centre on the island of Vanua

Levu —where, curiously enough, he was born.

Champion golfer Frank was burly, strong and virile, and he played golf the previous Saturday, and went prospecting on Sunday. On Tuesday night we wanted him to take a hand at crib, but the “Adi Beti” had anchored that even ing at Malau, and he said he would sort the mail, as it was the first for about a

week, and he knew what mail means in the Islands, and was ever obliging.

Unluckily, someone left the mail on board the ship that evening, and so Frank said he would sort it at seven next morning, before doing his first wire less shift.

He had a bad night, and he woke me about 6 a.m. for some physic, as he was in intense pain, “Doc. Worger is in the hotel”, I counselled. “See him about it”.

I do not know whether Frank did see the doctor, but he went up to the post office, sorted the mail, did his wireless shift, and went to hospital in a state of collapse, about 9 a.m.

Soon afterwards he was operated on.

Next day he died. Peritonitis, following acute appendicitis.

When he was in outlandish parts, where no doctor could be got at for days, Frank often used to think what would happen if he got suddenly ill. Yet —by the irony of fate —when sudden ill ness did attack him, he was living right alongside a doctor, and was one of the few people to have two doctors present at the one time at an operation in Labasa.

Commissioner, managers, overseers, mechanics, clerks, storekeepers, culti vators, labourers and —most grieved of all—his Fijian assistant, and the Indian and Fijian servants, all helped to bury Frank, who was laid to rest beneath a mango tree in the little cemetery within a stone’s throw of where he was born.

Grand sport, straight shooter, white man, and just master —in many places in the Pacific there is grief that he is gone.—G.

Major T. C. Backhouse, who spent many years as a doctor in New Guinea, is at present attached to the medical staff at Puckapunyal military camp in Victoria.

Lieut.-Colonel H. E. Woodman, DSO, formerly a member of the New Guinea District Services Department, has been appointed to command the 2/4 Battalion,

Aif,

Frank Rostier (left) on Canton Island in 1937, with Mr. G. V. Langdale (radio operator) and Makini, their Ellice Islands handyman.