Total War

By “Daika”

\U& parked our vehicles and the tired TT and dirty troops stumbled out. This town in Greece had not yet been bombed and the children crowded round us anxious to swop eggs for “conserva” (bully beef). We had not had eggs for days.

The women brought us hot water and we lay and rested under the pines which fringed the beautiful little town. Every where was peace, except for the large quantity of military traffic on the road, and we spoke and joked with the kiddies, who were just like kiddies anywhere in the world, although their country had been at war for months and most of the able bodied men were absent. The women wore strained faces and were thin, but they laughed at our attempts to speak Greek. We felt better as we looked at them.

Then over came some planes with the black cross of the Nazi on them. The sirens screamed and everyone crowded into the large shelters in the centre of the town, but when the shelters became too crowded the women and grown men left to make more room for the younger ones who still had most of their lives in front of them —they were to be given their chance to live whatever happened.

The planes circled once and then down crashed their load of death—on to the shelter. We looked at each other as we lay and waited. The planes unloaded all their bombs and left for more.

We ran down to help—if we could.

That sight will remain forever in my mind; many of us dreamt nightmarishly of it for months after, and that day we swore an oath of vengeance. Now most of those men who swore that oath are themselves dead —some in Crete, some in Syria, and some in New Guinea. The few who are left will still remember the moment when we came in sight of the main square of that town. fTTHE only sounds were the crackle of X flames and the subdued clatter of boots on the cobble stones. Seldom did anyone speak. The whole souare was covered in blood and mangled bits of human flesh which such a short time be fore had been living, romping children.

Some still lived, horribly broken, and their large eyes followed us piteously as we did our best to ease their soul’s flight to what we hope is a better world.

The mothers worked dry-eyed. They were stunned—their brains could not grasp such catastrophe. Some of them gathered up odd pieces of what had been flesh of their flesh: a boot with a little foot still in it. Yes—the patch on the side had been done by their hard-worked hands only a few days before. Never again would they cry shrilly for the lad who wore them to come quickly out of the rain and be answered by his child’s voice.

The pitiful little heaps grew on the pavements as the women searched. A hand and arm; a head, severed from its trunk and recognisable only by the hair and teeth. We cursed God that day as well as the Nazi butchers.

A woman’s body, torn open, lay in the track of a big military lorry. An old woman, holding the battered head in her arms, rocked to and fro, crooning to her self as she had done when her daughter had been a babe in arms. Now her daughter had gone—and her grand children too. But she could not realise it.

Many a tear was wiped surreptitiously away from a tough Aussie’s eye that day.

It was total war—but not a soldier had been hurt —physically. And yet we had scoffed at others for surrendering when

this was happening to them. Would we be able to continue the fight if this had happened in Australia? Would our union leaders, and politicians still rant and rave and keep their safe jobs? ♦ * * ALONG line of white planes droned across the Papuan sky, very high up. The sun flashed on the spinning props and the glass of the cockpits. We identified them as Japs.

Came the thunder of heavy explosions as their bombs landed. The rattle of machine-guns came from above as our planes—so few at that time—strove to break through the screen of enemy fighters and disperse the bombers. Soon a Jap plane slowly pulled out of the line and began its dive—to death. Its engines screeched and screamed; a wing came off. We on the ground stood with bated breaths. The engine left its mountings, but the scream went on and the air shook.

We watched—but not a Jap left that doomed plane. Faster and ever faster it came, until it went out of sight below the trees and a wisp of smoke drifted up —vanishing before the fluttering, side slipping wing reached earth. At least one Jap plane and crew had paid in full for this raid.

Up in the bombed area men worked feverishly. A hospital had been hit. The doctor eased pain and put broken bodies together. This, too, was war.

Many bombs had landed in the bush.

No one worried about them —too thank ful that they had not fallen closer—but in the bush were natives, who, driven from their villages by the cruelty and lust of a blood-mad world, had made small community houses in this secluded spot. They made new gardens, too, and lived frugally while waiting for the har

vest. Now one bomb had destroyed all.

There were no doctors here. No bandages, no medicines; just life—and death. There was crying as the flow of life ran out of bleeding little bodies. A young mother, dying, tried to give her

week-old child a last drink at her breast The baby’s tiny hands waved, and he gurgled in delight as he nuzzled her Soon her body would grow cold and he would cry—but there would be none to hear.

An old man, dragging himself along while trying to push back the intestines bulging from a gash across his abdomen, his dark skin glistening with the perspiration from the effort, at last lav down to die.

Two children, one with a broken leg and the other with a mangled arm, gazed about them with eyes glazed by shock and pain.

The sun rose higher, then began to sink. No movement or sound disturbed the solemn quiet. The baby began to cry and continued until exhaustion at last quieted him. The next day his cries grew less.

A week later a patrol of soldiers stood and looked at the scene. Just another episode in a total war, with its suffering innocents, differing from a thousand

such episodes on a dozen battle fronts only in location. This time it was a few “Fuzzy Wuzzies” who, knowing nothing of civilised conflicts, nor having ever heard of Germany or Japan, yet reaped the whirlwind of international hate and avarice.

We who see these sights are left wondering how long the world is to be allowed to remain steeped in such selfish ness and hypocrisy.