Evolution Of A

Fiji Commando

By Harold Cooper

COMMANDOS are made, not born, even in Fiji. Not so many months ago the Fijian men who won such a reputation on Guadalcanal were living quietly in remote villages and had never handled any weapon more complicated than an axe or a cane knife.

When they reported to their New Zea land instructors they were perhaps the rawest' recruits ever to don the King’s uniform. They could speak no English, and the New Zealanders no Fijian, so that early instruction had to be imparted painstakingly through interpreters.

The Fijians at first stood in some awe of the bullet, not because of its power to inflict injury, but because its flight was invisible. This initial nervousness, how ever, soon vanished and before long they were carrying out manoeuvres unper turbed by live ammunition bursting round them.

Their physique was excellent and they lost no time mastering all the devices of unarmed combat. The course of training was tough, but the Fijians were tougher, and they cheerfully survived many an exhausting trek over the worst terrain these rocky, forest-clad islands can provide.

The second quality which gave the Fijian recruit the hallmark of the fine soldier was his sense of discipline. From birth he had been taught to respect his Chiefs and obey the reasonable orders of his seniors in the village community; and he readily adapted himself to the severe routine of army life.

But all the instructors are agreed that the Fijian’s outstanding quality was his unbounded zest for soldiering. From the hour of enlistment his one desire was to learn how to fight and to learn so thor oughly that the opportunity to practice his skill in actual combat could not be long denied him.

Even before he was allowed to use ammunition he was completely absorbed in his rifle and would spend hours prac tising the modest preliminary art of holding and aiming. By way of relaxa tion he joined with his comrades in devising mekes (or ceremonial dances) in which the rifle was the chief stage pro perty and which gaily dramatised the successes to be achieved in future en gagements with the enemy. It is scarcely surprising that in the end this enthusiast became (as many a Japanese on Guadal canal had the misfortune to discover) a formidable marksman.

These Fijians were hand-picked men, selected from many volunteers for the honour of representing their various vil lages, and were the pride and envy of other islanders. Their enormous pres tige sometimes hampered training, for wherever they appeared they were wel comed and feted as heroes. This popu larity was a source of acute embarrass ment during periods when the Comman dos were out “on a stunt” with strict orders to “live on the country” and eat only wild food. The villagers would try to load them as usual with produce from their gardens and the officer in charge would find it difficult to explain that for once this generosity was entirely mis placed. rpHE Fijian has made a tremendous hit X with his American ally. In the transport on their way to the Solo mons the Commandos kept the crew and their fellow-passengers entertained with native songs to the accompaniment of the guitar. From the moment they landed

on the beach at Guadalcanal they struck up a firm friendship with the Marines hundreds of whom crowded round to welcome them as the first British Colonial reinforcements.

Provision had been made in the train ing curriculum for lectures to the Fijians on the origins of the war and the cause for which they would be fighting. But no such education was necessary. The Fijians knew the Japanese was on his way south and they wanted to turn him back before he could reach their own islands.

After they had observed him at close quarters on Guadalcanal they grew to loathe him for the bestial manner in which he lived and fought. They saw Japanese encampments which presented spectacles of appalling squalor, with un

buried corpses left to rot beside tents still occupied by living soldiers. They were filled with indignation and in credulity that this unclean and degen erate creature should dream of becoming master of the world.

The Fijian is a devout Christian.

When the Coihmandos were not on Sun day patrols they could be seen in Guadal canal’s little thatched churches joining in worship with their comrades of the Solomons Scouts. Those who decry Britain’s Colonial record might ponder this picture of the former cannibal and the former head-hunter kneeling together to give thanks for a new way of life which they, in common with millions of their fellows throughout the Empire, have found worth fighting and worth dying for.