How The Japs Came To Lae

The Story of a Trek Through Markham and Wampit

By “Evacuee"

IN Lae. New Guinea, the early portion of Wednesday, Januarv 21, 1942, was much as other days. The usual torrential rain had fallen during the night, but the day dawned fine and bright. We heard in the early news session that 50 Japanese planes had raided Rabaul the previous day and we wondered when our turn was coming seeing that reconnaissance planes had been over Lae during the week. We were not left long in doubt.

About 11.45 a.m. the native messenger from the wireless station rushed past the office as if “Old Nick”, was after him.

“There go our evacuation orders, said my mate, and I laughed.

A few minutes later “Bello sounded at Guinea Airways. As it was so close to

tak°e’ Cl had ’been ft

being rung earlier than usual. It continned to B ring. Someone suggested it might be an air-raid warning, so we went and stood bv our trenches. But, as nothing happeVd we decided it was the nrdinarv “Bello” and set off to the hotel te toch. As we approached the District Office, the Assistant District Officer balled the car up and told us that word had been received that between 60 and 70 planes had been sighted at Pinschhafen, flying in a north-south direction.

Later we found that our wireless operator had iust finished sending, and was idly twisting his dials to see if there was anyone on the air when he picked up a message— “Salamaua Lae. Bulolo, Wau.

60-70 planes proceeding in north-south direction.” The message was repeated several times.

It transpired that the message had been broadcast by a patrol officer in the Finschhafen district. Had his warning not been received there is no doubt there would have been many casualties. As it was, the only one injured was a native who was struck by a piece of flying stone when he looked out of the trench where he was sheltering, and suffered a minor abrasion.

We continued on to the hotel, parked the car under the trees and were gazing up at the sky, as if it was a flight of friendly planes we were expecting, when all of a sudden, Japanese fighters came around the point with guns and cannon blazing.

We made for the slit trenches like greased lightning, tumbling in pell-mell; and there we stayed for 65 minutes, listening to the crump of falling bombs, crouching as low as we could every time the fighters came over. It seemed as though the Japs could see us in the trenches (probably they could, as some chaps were wearing white clothes), for every now and again there would be a roar of engines and we could hear the bullets thudding into the ground just near our heads.

Periodically I would try to change my position, to avoid cramp and snatch a hasty glance upwards—each time to see the bombers overhead, flying in perfect formation as they came in for another

run over their targets, the aerodrome and workshops being the chief one. Their pattern bombing was wonderfully ac curate, as was observed later. At times we could see what appeared to be leaflets floating down. Afterwards, these were discovered to be invoices, letterheads and other papers from Guinea Airways office, which had been wafted upwards by the force of the explosions and the hot-air currents from the enormous fires.

Lae, After The Bombing

AT long last they flew away, appar ently having used all their am munition, and quiet reigned again.

We waited for some time, and then came out of our holes. Once the “blitz” was over we discovered we were all terribly thirsty, and made towards the hotel.

What a mess it was in! It had been riddled with bullets and small cannon shells; broken bottles, glasses, fibre sheets and various liquids littered the floors. After a drink, some of us piled into a car and went around looking for casualties, and were very happy when we found that none had been injured. The slit trenches had saved us.

Everywhere we saw the appalling des truction that had resulted from the bombing and machine-gunning. Guinea Airways hangars, stores and fuel tanks were In flames; aeroplanes were burning; the new Administration buildings, Burns, Philp & Co.’s store and many private buildings had suffered from bomb blasts and machine-gun fire; while the tops of coconut palms and tree branches had fallen across the roads, bringing with them electric light and telephone wires.

Many of the roads were pitted with bomb craters.

We returned to the hotel; some of the native staff had stuck to their guns and were ready to serve lunch. We were just going into the wrecked dining-room when

the sound of plane engines was heard, so we dashed for the trenches again. How ever, it was one of our own planes which had escaped from Rabaul and hidden in the clouds while the attack on Lae was in progress.

Emergency Camp

WE went to our respective homes to see how they had fared. My native servant was straightening things up. and showed me where machine-gun bullets had come through the roof and lodged in my favourite seat. I asked him what he had done during the raid. Smil ing all over his face he replied, “Me go along hole all same you talk. Me no fright along Japan. Japan he fright too much to come fight along ground, can throw away bomb along aeroplane, that’s all.”

About 2.30 p.m. all who were not mem bers of the New Guinea Volunteer Rifles assembled at the District Office, when we were told that as there was no means of determining whether the raid would be followed by a landing or not. it had been decided to vacate the settlement. We were to collect sufficient food and cloth ing, etc., for a couple of days and proceed along the Markham Valley Road to a camp that had been selected for an emergency such as this. Some were de tailed to collect tents and supplies from the Government Stores, others to various duties connected with the natives, their evacuation, etc.

We went down to the office to see how the place had fared, and to collect some gear, then up to the house to prepare for the trek. On arrival I told my faithful Buka: “We go along bush now.” He replied, “All right, master, all something he ready,” and ready it was.

Blankets, mosquito nets, change of clothing, food, first-aid kit, etc., were packed into a swag bag waiting to be picked up. He collected his gear, and off we set along the road, noticing as we went many ugly jagged pieces of bomb casing in the craters.

It seemed as if they must have known where Government House was and made a dead set against it, for there were craters all around it, and on the road leading up to the Terrace.

Eventually, we turned off the main road on to a by-path and branched off into the bush, finally coming to the site that had been selected for our temporary camp. There was not much daylight left; so some of the party, with the help of our boys, concentrated on erecting shelters and succeeded in getting every one accommodated before dark. Others collected firewood and drinking water and looked after the stores. Our wire less men did a wonderful job in getting a portable set into action and establish ing contact with the outside world.

After a scratch meal we made our beds and got into them. I don’t think any one had a comfortable night. Very few were used to camp life and found sleen ing on the ground vastly different to being in a comfortable bed. All wondered what the future held, and what our next move would be.

Next day, everyone was busy, and by nightfall the tents had been erected on good sites, bathing places set apart for whites and natives in the river, and proper cooking and sanitary arrangements made.

We Leave Camp

ON Friday, two other men and I com mandeered a lorry and went into the settlement with instructions to bring back as much food as possible, in case a landing was made by the enemy and we had to go further into the bush.

There always being the feeling that the Japs might re-appear at any moment, we

did not observe speed limits. In Lae, we loaded to capacity with bully-beef, bis cuits and rice; then, after wrecking all the apparatus at the wireless station, made back with our load.

The afternoon was spent in man handling the load from roadhead to the camp. By nightfall, everyone was glad to get into bed. It was to be a disturbed night, however.

About midnight we were awakened and asked to assemble in our leader’s tent, where we were informed that the wireless man had picked up news that there was a large Japanese fleet in Rabaul Harbour and that the place had been occupied by the enemy. The question we had to de cide was what we would do —where to go.

It would be only a matter of time before the enemy would follow up and occupy Lae and Salamaua. We had heard noth ing from Rabaul for two days. Salamaua radio was off the air, so we did not know if there was anyone there or not. Bulolo had been bombed. We could not get in formation or instructions from Australia.

There were two alternatives; go to Wau, and risk finding that that town had been bombed also, or go to the Ramu dis trict, where there was plenty of food for our immediate needs and where we could live off the land, if necessary. Finally, it was decided that we make our way along the Markham Valley Road to a certain point, and then, if no favourable

news had come through, to make our way to the Ramu.

Saturday morning was wet and miser able. It had rained heavily all night and consequently the river and creeks were in flood. The day was spent in preparing for the trek, only essentials being packed.

Many things of a sentimental nature had to be discarded, as it was not known if we would always be able to get carriers and there might be times when we would have to hump our own packs, while what natives we did have carried food.

That was how we finally left the camp on Sunday morning. Only our personal servants and a few other natives were available as carriers, and it took them all their time to carry our rations and tents.

Arriving at the main Markham Valley Read, we were fortunate enough to find a lorry, so those who were not so fit, and our packs, got a lift for about four miles. But. for the majority, there com menced a long weary journey that was to terminate hundreds of miles away at Port Moresby.

Off On A Long, Weary Trek

MANY of the party made heavy going along the road; and, when another lerry came along, we were relieved to be able to get a lift for them. But, for the remainder, it was just “keep on

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going,” with a spell every now and then to wipe the sweat off.

About 4 p.m. We came on those of the party, who had ridden, seated at the roadside. We found that efforts were being made to find a suitable camp site, and were very pleased when one man came back and informed us that he had found a village where we could all camp for the night, without fear of being washed out of our tents. A few. minutes’ walk brought us to the village of Yaloo.

After sorting ourselves out into the avail able houses, and preparing for the night, everyone made for the river for a much needed wash.

Next morning, we were able to collect a few carriers, which made things some what easier over the next stage, which brought us to Nazawopum about 2 n.m., when we halted for the day. Most of the villagers were away in the bush, or at their gardens, but they eventually came in, in response to messages conveyed to them on the village garamut.

It was explained to them that we would only stay overnight and would like to buy any foodstuffs they could spare. They responded very well, bringing sweet potatoes, tomatoes, bananas, corn and several fowls which, although past their first youth, made a good stew when cooked with the vegetables and a few tins of bully-beef. While daylight lasted, our medical man had a busy time attend ing to sore and blistered feet, cuts, etc.

Heavy rain fell during the night.

No difficulty was experienced in ob taining carriers here and when we moved on in the morning, the going was much easier without the packs on our backs.

About the middle of the morning we came to a fork in the road and, as the traffic seemed to have all been to the left, we turned that way and found our selves at the Lutheran Mission Station of Nadzab. Three missionaries were in residence, who informed us that the village we were making for was to the right of the road, not the left. However, we contacted several members of the NGVR. who were looking after Nadzab aerodrome, and, after exchanging news over a cup of tea, made our way to the village, known as Gabsonkek.

Plane To The Rescue

HERE we had to decide which way we would take. Owing to the rivers being in full flood, with no possi bility of making an easy crossing, it was decided to wait for the dav in the village, where there w p s n fair accommodation, to if the flood abated and also to enable the balance of the party, who had the portable wire less set, to catch up and give us late news.

Wednesday, January 28, was spent in washing clothes and discussing ways and means. Many natives passed through the village this day on their way home to their own villages. Most of ‘ them had been working at Salamaua, and they told us that it had suffered the same fate as Lae.

There was no sign of a fall in the river on Thursday; if anything, it had risen.

It looked as if we were in for a long wait.

Several small parties set out to seek a suitable camp site farther off the road, where we would be safe from aerial re connaissance and Japanese patrols, if they landed and came up the road with out us hearing of it. While they were away, the drone of an aeroplane was heard and we took cover under the trees.

However, it was one of our planes looking for us. The pilot, who bore letters for our leader, landed at Nadzab in the hope

that the detachment there would have news of us. It was only a small plane, totally unarmed, so that he would not have had a chance had he run into the Japs. If anyone has earned honours in New Guinea it is the civilian pilots, who took their lives in their hands to get the people out of danger.

Two of our number, who were not in good fettle and who could not have walked much farther, were able to make the trip back to Wau in the plane. Word was sent to the authorities at Wau as to our position and the state of the rivers; it was suggested that if possible the plane should come back the next day and ferry us over the river to the nearest drome on the far side. From there it would be possible to walk to Wau.

Struggling Through The

Wampit

THIS was approved and early next morning we were ferried, two at a time, from Nadzab to Wampit, in about two hours. It was here that we said “good-bye” to our devoted native servants. I had never shaken hands with a native before, as a matter of principle, but as I bade my bov farewell a lump came into my throat. He seemed to feel it as much as I did. Others told me afterwards that they felt the same when taking leave of their boys.

While we were in Wampit village a warrant officer of the European Constabu lary, with a number of police-boys and carriers, arrived. He had ample stores and, having heard that Europeans were stranded in one of the villages, he was on his way to render assistance.

As soon as everyone was flown over the river, we set off and, although we did not have packs to hump, the going was much harder. There v/as nothing like the Markham Valley Road, only tracks All the creeks were running high, and the approaches to them were absolute quagmires in which one sank up to one’s knees. The tracks were not good, at the best of times, but with the heavy rains and the large number of natives traversing them on their way home to their villages, they were awful. One pro gressed three feet, and slipped back two.

Eventually, we came to the Wampit River. This also was in flood, but was not so wide as the Markham, and, by getting ropes from one bank to the other, everyone was able to haul themselves across, hand over hand. The Wampit had to be crossed again twice in a similar way before we reached our destination for the night, and it did not add to the comfort of anyone when rain commenced to pour down.

At long last, we arrived at Timne village, where we made camp. By rubbing each other down briskly we were able to get some warmth into ourselves, and a tot of spirits from the WO's stores put us in a better frame of mind.

We were destined to stay at Timne longer than was expected owing to one of the party going down with a bad dose of fever.

The journey was recommenced on Sunday, February 1. Our fever case was carried on a stretcher by relays of natives, who made a wonderful job of handling their patient up and down the hillsides and across the many creeks.

About noon we came to a river, where there was good drinking water, so halted to boil the billy and have a wash. After an hour’s spell we continued, climbing most of the time until we arrived at Parteb, well up in the mountains, and very cold after the low country we had come from. With only one blanket each, and plenty of cracks in the floors of the huts, we just lay and shivered, none

getting much sleep.

In The Snake Valley

THE day dawned fine and bright and JL all hands stepped out well, little thinking what was in store for us.

After descending a long winding track, we crossed a small river, uo the hills again on to a stretch of 'fairly level country, coming first to Zenag drome, then through waist-high kunai until we reached the edge of the plateau, where we looked down on to the Snake River.

To get down to the river bed we had to climb down one of the hill spurs which was like a razorback, with a slooe of about only 20 deg. from the perpendi cular. It was a real nightmare experi ence. The next trial was crossing one of the tributaries of the Snake, and then the Snake itself. There had been heavy rains, and landslides further upstream, and stones of all sizes and shapes were being carried down by the rushing waters. None escaped being struck by these invisible missiles, and the first-aid kit was in great demand when we got to the far side.

Then on again through the tall kunai until we arrived at the Muniem drome.

Here we found a small hut, usually used by the missionaries when their supplies were flown in, so we called a halt and took advantage of the shade, while the track through the Snake gorge was in vestigated to see if it was possible to get through and thus shorten our journey It was not to be. The track was well under the flood waters and there was nothing for it but to make our way up into the hills again to the Muniem Mission, 4,000 feet above, where we had halted.

It was now 2.30 p.m., so that if we were to reach our destination before dark it behoved us to put our best feet foremost The track was anything but well defined, being only used when the mission plane brought the quarterly stores. The kunai and undergrowth was head high. After what we had gone through in the morn ing, it was quite a feat to climb to the mission station in the short spell of day light left, more especially as the usual ram commenced when we were still about 1,000 feet from the top. When we got to the mission we were more than grate ful for the hot drinks the advance guard had waiting.

Next day we had to climb down the opposite side of the mountain. It was very trying, as we soon got out of the timbered area into the open, with the sun blazing down. Going down hill all the time, the weight was on the front of the anc * we couldn’t make up our minds whether going up or coming down was worst.

The Watut—Easier Going

AT long last, we came to where we could ford the Snake River and, with the help of the native con stables, we got safely across. A short spell, until everyone caught up, and then on j ol i£ way> across Sunshine drome and then along the Watut Gorge. An other “nice” track; landslips, slippery rocks, with little or no foot or hand holds, and sundry other pleasant items to make it interesting; one slin, and you were down in the rushing waters of the Watut.

One man did lose his footing, and was 4-v. k?. pulled out in time by some of the natives. He had to be carried into camp, and was in hospital for some days afterwards. Nothing lasts for ever, however, and about 3 p.m. we straggled into Sunshine. “ All work had been suspended on the workings and all employees of military age called up for service. The settlement was in the hands of the troops, who entertained us until trans port arrived to take us to Bulwa, where

we were to spend the night. What a treat it was to get there and to feel that the worst of our journey was over. That night we had a proper meal, and sat at a table like civilised beings afterwards enjoying a hot bath and a glorious sleep.

Here I met one of my old Buka boys, who couldn’t do enough to make me com fortable. None will ever convince me that if you treat natives properly they will not appreciate it and respect you.

Wednesday morning found us on our way to Wau, by truck and lorry; third class riding, maybe, but infinitely better than first-class walking. We stayed at Bulolo for a short time and arrived at Wau about noon. Here all our particulars as to age, next-of-kin, etc., were taken and any who were in need of medical attention received it.

We were taken several miles out of town, to the Golden Ridges mine, be cause it was considered safer there in the event of a raid.

Out Per “Faith In Australia”

WE left the Ridges about 5 p.m. on Thursday and were almost in Wau when the air-raid siren went. We looked around and saw two planes com ing in over the town. I never saw a vehicle empty quicker; the chaps went in all directions.

We found a good position under an overhanging rock, while the man behind us threw himself into a nearby gutter, to discover that it was half full of muddy water. It nearly dried up as the result of his remarks. It was a false alarm.

Three times we were taken aboard a plane and headed south, and three times we were forced back to Wau by bad weather.

On Monday morning we assembled once more, but one look at the sky was enough. As there seemed no possibility of take-off, I washed a change of clothes and had just got them on the line when the telephone rang. “Come to the drome at once. There is a gap in the clouds and we will give it a go” was the message. No use putting on wet clothes, so they had to be left behind —leaving me only what I stood up in.

When we arrived at the drome the engines were ticking over, and it was only a matter of minutes before we were in the air. Our hopes leaped high when we climbed above the clouds into bright sunshine. Not for long. We soon ran into rain, and tossed about like corks in a rough sea. we had been up about 2 h hours, my mate, who was looking through the window, yelled in my ear: “There’s the sea,” and the sea it was. We were across the range. The rain was coming in from the sea, visibility was limited, at times we seemed to be only a few feet above the waves, and another hour passed be fore the Port Moresby drome was sighted.

When we landed it was exactly four hours after leaving Wau, and there was hardly any petrol left in the tanks. The journey usually took about an hour.

But we did not mind the extra time.

It was much easier than having to walk, as those who were left had to do; for no other planes were able to make the trip, and the gallant bus was grounded as being no longer airworthy. She was the late Charles Ulm’s famous old “Faith in Australia,” with many wonderful flights to her credit; but I doubt if she ever had more grateful passengers than on that last trip.