Bombs On Rabaul

Some Interesting Sidelights

From Our Own Correspondent

Rabaul, Jan. 9.

THE first enemy bombs to be dropped on Australian soil, in all its history, fell near the golf links at Rabaul on Sunday last, killing 12 natives and in juring in varying degrees some 30 other natives, amongst whom were 11 natives from the Trobriand Islands. They had been rescued from the sea after being several weeks adrift in a native canoe, during which two died of exposure and hunger.

Thus pass a dozen natives of a race over whom Australia has fanatically observed the “sacred trust” given by the idealistic League of Nations, and which now is deader than the dodo. The bombs from the 16 Japanese heavy bombers put the finishing touches to the mandatory sys tem, which has been only a farce since its inception in 1921.

We were given a mandate over New Guinea, and we were scrupulous in not arming New Guinea. Japan was given a similar mandate over Carolines and Marshalls and armed them to the teeth.

Those bombers attacking unprotected Rabaul, came from the Carolines.

The story of Australia’s unpreparedness in the Pacific will be told after this war.

God help officialdom if any of us can ever get at it!

AT 10.45 a.m. on Sunday, January 4, Japanese heavy bombers approached the town from the north-west; and immediately an air-raid siren sounded.

They flew steadily on towards the south east, straight towards Matupi crater.

Other warnings sounded, and then came loud detonations trom the vicinity of the golf links. Columns of black dirt and smoke (so like the spewings of the crater) arose; the aircraft flew on, and disappeared into the east.

First Aid forces from the local PHD rushed out and worked steadily until late in the afternoon on the wounded natives —relieving those past recovery, attending those with awful lacerations from the flying bomb splinters. Some had limbs half-torn from their bodies, some were nearly disembowelled.

At one corner of a labour house, there lay five distorted forms, as death had found them on this bright sunny Sunday morning, evincing a keen interest in this striking demonstration of the “balus” — the symbol of civilisation which was being thrust upon them.

Another “alarm” was sounded that night, about 7 p.m., and enemy aircraft circled over the harbour, made a wide sweep and eventually dropped many bombs, with deafening detonations, on the upland grass country across the bay.

One native, sitting in his garden alone, was killed. Material damage was slight. rIS is now the sixth day since the first raid. Every day we have either an “alert”, an “alarm”, or a raid. Damage has been done, but the extent has not been divulged. There have been no European deaths or casualties up to the present.

We expect there will be more visitations from our northern neighbours.

Asiatics and natives are either fearful or philosophic. If the former, they “go bush”, leaving their business or work to look after itself.

Many of the tailor shops in Chinatown have been closed since Sunday; res taurants have discontinued to function; house-boys have gone home to their villages. But those that remain seem to take their cue from the Europeans: If it comes, then it comes. So what?