Jimuru

What One Mission Native Did in the Solomons

A REMARKABLE and unusual type of Solomon Islander, at present in Syd ney is Jimuru, leader of a party of Solomon Islanders who have been taken there by the Seventh Day Adventist Mis sion to man their old vessel, the “Melan esia,” now under repair. The Mission has four new ships under construction, to re place vessels lost during the war.

Jimuru, son of a chief, is a navigator, a trained medical assistant, and a Mission translator. When the missionaries were driven out by the Japs, Jimuru took charge of the Amyes Memorial Hospital, on Kolobangara* and cared for the pat ients.

Then the Japs landed and all the natives “went bush.” Jimuru contacted the Allied coast-watching parties, and they put him in charge of native medical work on Kolobangara and Wanawana, and asked him and his men to help any Allied airmen shot down in that area.

An air battle was fought some distance away, over the mountains, and the report came that a plane had been shot down.

Runners found the plane, an American machine, but there was no trace of the crew. They returned and reported this to Jimuru, but he sent them back to make a further search.

This time they looked up into a big tree and saw a wounded airman suspended by his parachute, about 100 feet above the ground. He had been there a full day and a night.

The boys built up a mound of ferns and leaves and then called to the man; “Master, you come down along tree!”

The master hesitated, not knowing whether they might be collaborating with the enemy. However, he finally let him self down to about 40 feet and dropped.

His arm was badly broken and his head gashed.

The runners carried him, unconscious, over the mountains for some hours, to Jimuru’s hide-out. He fed the wounded man with eggs beaten up with coconut milk, bathed his wounds and set the broken bones.

Then Jimuru informed his patient that he would have to be sewn up if he wanted to live, though they had nothing with which to put him to sleep. The airman replied grimly: “Go ahead I do want to live.”

A long thorn and a raffia-like vine were sterilised and used to sew up the wounds.

After two days there was an opportunity to get the patient away to an American base. He did not wish to go, fearing that he might be captured by the enemy, who occupied the territory they must pass. But Jimuru assured him they would not let the enemy get him.

The natives prepared a large canoe, made a little house over it, camouflaging it with ferns and branches of trees, and placing baskets of food on top. Under cover of darkness they set off, with the airman and twenty natives in the canoe, they passed through the danger area and reached their destination.

Before he left the Solomons for Sydney, Jimuru received a letter from the airman whose life he saved. It read something like this: “I can never forget those days of sickness, for the scars are on my face, and the marks where you sewed. Those marks remind me of what you did to keep me alive, and I want to thank you for it all.”

More than 200 Allied airmen were saved by the Mission natives in the Solomons.