Australians' Shangri-la

At the End of a Guadalcanal Jungle Trail

Prom a Special Correspondent

South Pacific Base. June.

“T ATE in the day we came to a clear- L ing„ and in the centre stood a five room house built of bamboo sur rounded by a neatly-trimmed lawn and flower beds. Bananas, pawpaws, lime and lemon trees were plentiful, while at the rear of the house was a large vegetable garden containing tomatoes, cucumbers, beans, corn and pineapples.

“Further surprises came with the appearance of a well-educated Fijian, who escorted us through the house, which we found had electric light, beds with inner sprung mattresses, an electric re frigerator, and complete furnishings car ried over the 18 miles’ trail by native porters.

“Only the Australian owners were not there to welcome us; they had wisely moved out when the Japs came. But the Fijian overseer was hospitality itself; while the men made themselves at home in the kitchen, he welcomed us to din ner in the dining-room, with linen cloth, fine china and silverware. There were cold sliced cucumbers, tomatoes and other fresh vegetables—it was grand!”

Such is the account given by two infantry officers of their arrival at an Australian’s Shangri-la, which presented vistas of great beauty above the jungle hell of Guadalcanal. For. since the end of the battle for that bloodstained island, United states soldiers have had time to explore its almost impassable jungles and hidden fastnesses, its steep sunbaked hills and sandy, palm-fringed beaches.

Leaders of this particular patrol of twenty men were Capt. David B. Ritchie and Lieut. Gunderson. Their trail led through the tortuous jungle of the Sar vihu River Valley. Guided by two natives, for nine hours the group made its way first along the river bed. then through gloomy, dense jungle where the horizon was limited to a circle of 10 feet.

This was succeeded bv a climb, hand over hand, up sheer cliffs by means of rudely-constructed ladders, and along rope vines in the burning sun, so that every step became an effort. Two of the men dropped out before the goal was reached—and the joys of civilisation almost unbelievably burst on the party.

EDITORIAL NOTE.—The reference, apparently, is to the camp established inland on Guadalcanal by the Theodore gold-mining interests, from Fiji. The enterprise was suspended when the Japs invaded, in 1942, and the Europeans withdrawn; but an educated Fijian was left in charge.

A Solomon Islands planter, Captain C.

E. Hart, who recently was in Sydney, had a remarkable experience. He recovered from the pockets of a dead Jap his valu able collection of stamps which, a week earlier, had been stolen from his house on his plantation in the Tulagi area.

Captain Hart’s wife and daughter were evacuated in January, 1942. but he him self remained there until after the Japanese invasion.

This morning, while our guns were shelling a Japanese position we heard the added noise of our bombs on Salamaua.

A young Australian lathering his chin grinned at me. “Write home to Mum,” he said. “I am within shaving distance of Salamaua.” —Alan Dawes , in Mel bourne “Herald”