The Story Of A Wartime Pig-Hunt

By Harold Cooper

IT was during my first visit to Guadal canal, in mid-1943, that I heard from Father de Klerk the story of the pig hunt at Cape Hunter, but I have had to wait for the end of hostilities to be able to repeat it.

I tried to get it past the censors soon after my return from Guadalcanal, but they put their red pencil through every word of it. I suppose the idea was that the need to stage other pig-hunts might arise before the war was over, and they didn’t want the Japanese to grow too familiar with the technique.

Father de Klerk, a Dutch Roman Catholic priest who had his own private score to settle with the Axis (for he had not heard from his family since his home land was overrun in 1940), was in com mand of a force of native scouts operat ing behind the Japanese lines on the further side of Gape Esperance. He had a large area to cover and his schedule of patrols was pretty crowded.

It was mildly annoying, therefore to receive a message from the Chief at Cape Hunter to the effect that the Japanese had established a coast watch station there, and would Father de Klerk kindly come along and deal with it.

Now, the garrison of this new enemy outpost was only nine strong, and it seemed to the Father ridiculous that the Chief should not be able to handle the situation without assistance. He said as much in his reply to the message, and the Chief, his pride badly mauled, de cided to take steps to eradicate the nine Japanese.

The job was not as straightforward as it sounds, for the Japs had rifles, while the range of weapons available to the Chief was limited to such domestic im plements as axes and cane knives. But the Chief, though he had no firearms, had a plan; and, as we shall see, the manner in which it was carried out be spoke careful preparation or, in the military phrase, excellent staff work.

THE Chief’s men had already visited the Jap camp several times, on the pretext of offering food for sale, so no suspicion was aroused when a few of them dropped in one afternoon and, after some desultory conversation (it had to be desultory, for the medium of exchange was a few words of English, plus a great deal of gesticulation) suggested that the Japs might like to vary their rather monotonous diet by eating a little pig flesh.

The Japs showed immediate interest, and were delighted to learn that the sur rounding bush was simply choc-a-bloc with wild pig. They agreed that a pig hunt would be a splendid way of spend ing the rest of the afternoon; and the hunt was arranged forthwith. Seven of the Japs, each armed with a rifle, were to take part in the expedition, while the remaining two were to stay and guard the camp.

Now, seven is a cumbersome number for a pig-hunt, so the Japanese were persuaded to split up into two parties— four and three—which went off into the bush in different directions, each with its quota of native guides.

Let us first follow the fortunes of the smaller party. After they had penetrated some distance into the bush, without see ing hide or hair of a pig, one of the three Japs, for reasons which need not be set out in detail, lagged a little behind his comrades. One of the native guides lagged with him.

Exactly how it happened I cannot say, but a few minutes later there was a dead Japanese lying in the bush and a Solomon Islander was in possession of his

rifle. This mysterious incident had a dramatic sequel, for the two other Japs in the party, as they poked about in their fruitless quest for the elusive pig, sud denly found themselves being fired on from the dense tangle of undergrowth behind them. Before they could do any thing about it both of them had received mortal wounds. , Their Solomon Islands guides, who had vanished into the bush just before the firing began, now reappeared and picked up the dead men’s rifles. rR the next, act the scene shifts to “another part of the wood.” Here the party of four Japanese, pigless, and showing signs of growing rather grumpy about the whole business, heard shots being fired in the distance.

Their guides began at once to gesticu late an explanation. The other party must, judging by the firing, have run into a positive herd of pigs! Would it not be a good idea to join them and see what luck they’d had?, The Japs excitedly con curred in this suggestion and, all heedless of their approaching doom, allowed them selves to be led through the bush in the direction whence had come the sound of the shots.

After awhile their guides somehow melted away, and a moment later the party found itself under fire.

THUS ended the first phase of the Battle of Cape Hunter. The Chief’s men now had seven rifles and, even if the two Japs left behind to guard the coast-watch station had shown fight, the odds against them would have been hopeless.

But what they chose to do, when they realised the full gravity of their situa tion, was to plunge into the surf and begin swimming wildly in the general direction of Tokio. Had the aim of the Chief’s men been less true, they might have been swimming yet.

As someone said later, it was a most satisfactory afternoon’s work, except for the fact that not even the Chief got any pork for supper.