Last Days In Rabaul

By E. C. Vider, Formerly Skipper of the MV "Eros"

ACCORDING to Gordon Thomas’s lists, compiled in Rabaul prison camps in 1942, and published „in the “PIM” in November last, I was one of those believed to have been in Rabaul when the invasion occurred, and whose fate was then unknown. Actually, I was one of the fortunate few who escaped.

The story of what happened to us may now be of interest to New Guinea people.

On January 4, 1942, I was with A, D.

Creswick in the Rabaul Hotel, discussing, over a glass of beer, the work to be done on the engines of the “Eros.” Suddenly, gunfire started, and I walked onto the verandah —and then I yelled to Creswick to come and look.

Overhead, in perfect formation against a beautiful blue sky, there were 16 large planes, and our AA guns were firing at them. A moment later, we heard thrump! thrump! They were bombing the lower drome.

After they had dropped their bombs and departed, Creswick, the hotel mana ger, and I, went out to the drome. It was a sight I shouud not wish to see again. A number of natives had been killed and horribly multilated. Judging by the craters, they had dropped “daisy cutters ”

We returned to the hotel, and tried to decide what to do. Between 7 and 8 p.m., the alarms started again, and over came the planes. After what we had seen that morning, we lost no time in getting into the slit trenches. But the planes this time attacked the top drome.

After the “all clear.” I returned to “Eros.” My boys were very quiet. I asked them what was amiss. The boss boy said: “Too much fire.” They had had a clear view of the raid; and to watch from a distance the explosion of a large number of bombs is very impres sive. I had told the boys, long before this, to build themselves a good trench, but they did nothing. Next morning, they asked permission to go ashore and build it. I can say that they then con structed the best trench in Rabaul. rjTHERE were intermittent reconnais -1 sance raids until the 20th, when the

Nips came over in force, and dropped everything on Rabaul except the kitchen stove. From where I was, I had a clear view of what occurred.

The Norwegian cargo vessel “Berstein’’ was lying alongside the BP copra wharf.

In a few minutes, the ship was afire from stem to stern. Three bombs hit her— one at No. 1 hatch, one at No. 3, just forward of the bridge, and the third aft.

The Nips then turned their attention to the “Westralia,” the WRC coal hulk, and got her with bombs. Soon after wards she capsized and sank. I noticed that about 40 feet of her bulwarks were blown out and folded down the side at an angle. While this was going on, I thought that every bomb was going right into the middle of the shelter where I lay.

When the planes left, we gathered at the Rabaul Hotel again. Word reached us there that the house of the BP manager, Mr. Phil Coote, which was a conspicuous object, on the foreshore to wards Matupi, had been blown to pieces, and Mr. Coote, who was sheltering in a trench nearby, had a very narrow escape.

I do not think anyone was killed In this raid; and I was impressed by the fact that neither the wireless station nor the military camp was bombed.

Early in the morning of the 21st, I returned to the “Eros.” Later, my crew woke me up—and there was the “Her stein” nearly alongside. Burning and adrift, she had floated across the har bour, and was now aground in front of the Customs House. My engines were all in pieces; so I hastily called the skipper of the “Leander,” and he made fast alongside, and towed me across to the opposite side of the harbour, where both ships anchored.

By now, we were both worried about the outlook. We did not know what to do. After breakfast, we took “Leander” back to the old Government wharf, and set the crew to loading firewood. No one was about, so we kept the engines running. Near the Customs House, I met Mr. Bert Gaskin, of the Cosmopolitan Hotel, and asked him if there was an alarm on. He said there was; so I re turned to “Leander” and moved the boys back on board, and we returned to the other side of the harbour.

We put in the day at this anchorage.

One reconnaissance plane came over. ‘VTE'XT day, the 22nd (the day before the Jap invasion) we decided to walk round to Rabaul. We could see a continual stream of boys going away from the town, and we did not know what was happening. 'We left “Leander” tied up alongside “Eros,” with her anchors ready on deck, to go to sea.

I was waiting for Howitt, when I heard an extraordinary din the noise of scores of planes. We got the boys into the boats, and hurried ashore and up the side of the hill.

Over came about 80 planes. We could tell from their size that they were from aircraft carriers. They went straight to Praed Point, where were our batteries, and to the barracks close by. They blew our two 6-inch guns off their em placements, and set fire to everything that would burn. Howitt and I had a clear view of this attack, and it was not a pretty thing to see.

After the planes left, Howitt and I started to walk to Rabaul. A Chinese came along with a car and gave us a lift to the Customs House, where we saw Mr.

Whiteman, a senior clerk. He could give us neither information nor instructions.

We were able to get some rice from the Government Stores. Mr. Brown, of Motor Transport, supplied us with a truck. We asked both Whiteman and Brown to come along w T ith us, but they could not make up their minds to do so. We drove in the truck to the Gov ernment Secretary’s Office and the Dis trict Office, and then to the houses of those officials, but we could find no one.

Eo we decided to return to the ships.

PRIOR to this we had heard—l forget how—that there was a Japanese fleet of 19 shios approaching. We decided to make a break for it, and try and save “Leander.” We cast off from “Eros,” and nroceeded close inshore to Kokopo, at moderate speed. I felt sad at leaving “Eros” —I had been her master for five years.

We anchored off Kokopo, and we got a dozen of cold beer from the half-caste barman at the Kokooo Club. Ashore, we saw Tom Walker, in charge of his pri soners, and Greenwood (formerly of Greenwood & Laws), and we asked both men to come along with us. But both refused.

While anchored here we saw the “Kabakul” leaving. I afterwards saw this ship at Thursday Island.

We left about 5.30 p.m., only a few hours before the Japs arrived. In fact, Jap reconnaissance speed-boats were quite close to us, but we fortunately were hidden in rain-squalls.

We crept around the coast to Tol Plantation, in Wide Bay, scene a few da vs later of a ghastly massacre. There were a lot of people at Tol. We took aboard Mr. T. McAdam, Rabaul Collec

tor of Customs, and eight Europeans from AWA staff.

Then we went on to Jacquinot Bay, where we picked up a number of other refugees, whose names I have forgotten.

But among them was Mrs. Boles, of Waterfall, who did a wonderful job for us, later, in the cooking department.

When we were leaving Waterfall, the crew of the “Leander” deserted—they jumped overboard and swam ashore—all except my personal boy, who came right through with me.

We had some exciting moments when on this coast. The AWA men helped a lot by steering, and keeping a 24-hours radio watch. We were within a short distance of a Jap carrier, at one stage, but they did not see us.

We got clear away and ran for the Trobriands. We had no sooner got into a quiet anchorage in that group than the ARM, the local missionary and Mr.

Cameron, a planter, came along in a launch and joined us. At first, when they saw us, they mistook the “Leander” for a small Jap destroyer, and they went into hiding and dumped a perfectly good teleradio set.

We had good radio aboard. While we were at Tol, a large party of Air Force men came along, seeking a means of getting a message away. The AWA men on “Leander” sent their message, as a result of which Catalinas went along there, soon afterwards, and carried the Air Force and some Army men out.

WE proceeded from the Trobriands to Samarai, where I found a deserted township and much confusion. I was asked to take a vessel—l think it was the “Gili-gili” boat to Port Moresby with miners from Misima and Woodlark. I agreed and went aboard,

but I found that only 100 gallons of water were carried. This was not enough. I had noticed nother tank lying ashore. I told these chaps to get it and fill it with water. They demurred; I insisted; they started to hold a confer ence; and I went back to the “Leander. ’

We wanted to go on to Australia, but we were ordered to Port Moresby, and to Moresby we went. The “Leander” was immediately seized by the Navy, and we were all put ashore, to twiddle our fingers. There were soldiers everywhere, and much confusion. Everyone was a boss, and nothing was being effectively done. The air raid alarm system was very bad. Eventually, the report went around that the opening of fire by the

A A guns meant the opening of a raid.

As a result, when the raids started, panic started.

Mining people who had walked overland from New Guinea were continually arriving in the town. They needed food and attention, but there was no organisation to take care of them. There was an eating den near the Catholic Church —never have I seen such a place—in fact, I would go hungry rather than eat there.

But there was one man who deserved congratulations on the way he controlled affairs in his charge—Mr. Frame, of the BNG store. He had everything well organised, and those associated with him knew what they were doing. I assisted with the small ships and never have I seen ships’ engine-rooms in sucn a bad condition. The engine-rooms were filthy, compressors out of order, tools rusty and worn. Very few of these ships could leave Moresby for Australia, and as raids were frequent, the outlook was bad. ...

Eventually, I got away in “Veiya,” in company with “Nugineo.” All I had was a compass, and a couple of charts of

Fapua, on too small a scale. I had not even a parallel rule. Two days from Moresby, I was following “Nugineo,” with my engine hard-pressed to keep up, when there was a smash in the engine-room, The “Nugineo” steamed around us, but would not give us a tow, and then de parted. My engineer was of little use.

We drifted for some days and then reached Daru, and from there we got across to Thursday Island.

AFTER seeing the efficient way in which Rabaul was organised to meet air raids, I cannot understand why nothing was done to evacuate the middle aged civilians from the town, by using the available shipping. The system they had introduced in the town was most effective, and there was no shortage of slit trenches for both Europeans and natives.

I cannot understand why they did not use the MV “Dorunda.” She was on the New Guinea coast, and was a fast ship.

If we could get through in “Leander,” they could have got away in “Dorunda.”

After the “Berstein” was sunk, there still were two ships that could have been used —the Carpenter ship “Durem bah,” and the Chinese ship “Kwong Chow.” Surely, since we got away from Kokopo as late as 5.30 p.m. on the 22nd, they also could have got clear before the, Japs came in.

Archdeacon S. R. M. Gill recently com pleted 37 years’ service with the Angli can Mission on the north-east coast of Papua.

Mrs. E. M. Johnson, now a resident of South Brisbane, has learned from Lieut.

C. G. Kilner, who was liberated when Japan surrendered, that her son, Private A. A. Johnson (affectionately known in Rabaul as “Billo”) was almost certainly aboard the Jap prison ship “Montevideo Maru,” when she was lost in June, 1942, with all hands. “Billo’s” father, Mr. J.

A. Johnson (of Cape Rigney Plantation, Madang) has been very ill, and is re turning from New Guinea to Brisbane.