Away
pp. 55-56 · Read in the full issue
Escape From
Rabaul
AWA Men Who Got Away
By Mrs. N. Luke (formerly Mrs. Boles)
IAM able to supplement Captain Vider’s account of the escape of the “Leander” from Rabaul on the eve of the Jap invasion, by supplying the names of various escapees, taken from notes I made at the time.
At 7 a.m. on January 22, 1942 —a few hours before the Jap invasion—l arrived off Gazelle Point on the motor vessel “Iboki,” with a load of timber. Not long afterwards we heard the explosions of bursting bombs, and saw columns of smoke in the direction of Rabaul. From our position we counted about 40 Jap planes. Little did I then realise I was witnessing the beginning of the most tragic incident in the history of the Ter ritory.
Four hours later, we chugged into Simpson Harbour, and finally tied up at Ah Tam’s wharf, with engine running and anchor up. On going ashore, we learned of the approach of the Jap Invasion fleet. We did not stay long.
At Ralum, outward bound, the “Iboki” picked up the following members of the staff of Amalgamated Wireless; Messrs, Farnsworth, Bishton, A. Hooper (whose name is in the list of missing, but who is very much alive in West Australia), James, Watson, Eldrige, Brown, Groom, and Luke.
During the night of the 22nd, as we headed southwards, a small steamer over took us, which we presumed to be the “Matafele.” The “Iboki” tried to con tact her. She answered, but did not appear to understand our signals, and was soon lost in the darkness.
We arrived at Tol Plantation at day light on the 23rd, and we noticed a few pinnaces, and the “Leander” at the anchorage. We soon found ourselves accepting the hospitality of George Naess, whose bungalow was at the disposal of all the weary and hungry folk who managed to reach Tol.
Let me here pay tribute to the memory of a brave and gallant soul George Naess. He refused to come away with us, and the last words I heard him speak, as
he entered his canoe, were: “I’m an old bloke —let the young blokes get away.”
And the old hero started on his journey into the unknown. So long, Old Timer!
I sent the “Iboki” over to Kiep to pick up anybody who might be over on that side of the bay, and I never saw her again. I have heard since that she “dis appeared.”
It was here at Tol that we from the “Iboki” joined the “Leander,” where we met Mr. Mac Adam, of the Customs. Eric Howitt told me he was on his way down the coast to take away as many as he could find.
In due course, we arrived at Cutarp Plantation, in Waterfall Bay. Accom panied by three of the men, I went across to the sawmill we had been using there, where we picked up my sawyer, A.
Schacht. I also got a few odds and ends which I thought might come in useful in the event of the schooner finding herself on the receiving end of a bomb, or meeting machine-gun bullets.
On the beach, I handed my teleradio over to an officer of the Air Force, and I was pleased to learn later it proved most useful.
Two of my Buka boys (ex-boat’s crews) came along with us, and made themselves useful on the “Leander.”
Mr. Frank Cutler joined us at Cutarp, and Mr. Bill Battis at Palmalmal.
At the Trobriands, Mr. Brewer, ARM (since killed in an aircraft accident), the Rev. Keith Gordon, and Mr. Cameron came on board.
We in the “Leander” finally reached Port Moresby via Samarai, where a fairly
large number of passengers came on board. Next day, I left for Australia per “Mako,” sailing in company with the “Muliama.”
I found the most nerve-racking experi ence of the whole trip was getting out of Rabaul Harbour, expecting Jap warships to come nosing round Praed Point at any moment.