Finschhafen

Dodging The Japs Behind

More About Coast-Watching in New Guinea in 1942-43

A FURTHER instalment of the story by Rev. A. P. H. Freund, Lutheran Missionary. He was one of an organisation of civilians, officials and Mis sionaries, who fought the Japs in the jungles of New Guinea prior to the com ing of the Austral-American forces.

IN the October instalment of my story, I told how my mates and visitors had left, and I had settled down to what I thought would be a stretch of routine work on Sattelberg.

Then, suddenly, the Japanese landed at Finschhafen. This was on December 19, 1942, over a year after the attack on Pearl Harbour, and eleven months after they had captured Rabaul.

I was awakened about 4 a.m. by the thunder of bombs. On going out to in vestigate, I saw a few parachute flares, in the final stages of their descent off the coast, north of Finschhafen, and heard a few more bombs; and then the aircraft flew off.

I returned to bed believing that the American bombers must have found a ship or some other target in that area.

At daybreak, I awoke with that inex plicable feeling that something was wrong somewhere. Outside I saw two cruisers slowly proceeding up the coast.

It was nothing new to see Japanese war ships passing; but, suddenly, it dawned on me that these were so close inshore that they had probably just come out from Finschhafen harbour. Turning my telescope in that direction, I saw a launch running across the harbour —and realised that 1 had received neighbours during the night.

My ideas of monotonous routine work were suddenly dispelled. Quick and un pleasant decisions had to be reached.

We were the forward eyes of the Army. The first instinctive reaction to any new situation was naturally to in form headquarters. The second duty was to make sure that our radio equip ment, code, etc., and ourselves, did not fall into enemy hands. It may sound like boasting, but it is merely a plain fact that it would have been very diffi cult, if not impossible, to replace us.

And, finally, if possible, we had to try to prevent the enemy from finding evi dence that we were in the area.

BUT things did not run too smoothly.

The first hitch was an atmospheric “blackout,” making it impossible to raise headquarters. The success of the rest depended on how soon the enemy came up to Sattelberg. I knew that if they hurried, they could arrive in about four hours after they landed at Finsch hafen.

Assuming that they landed about the time I heard the bombing during the night, I figured that anything after 8 a.m. they could be there. I soon noticed that the natives, though they were not in a panic, were definitely nervy.

Between vain calls, to try to raise headquarters, I grabbed a few tins of meat and other foodstuffs, got the natives to saddle a horse, and called for carriers. I managed to get sufficient together to take the radio set, charging motor, fuel, etc., besides my small supply of food and emergency pack of clothing, medical requirements and mosquito net, on the first stage of my withdrawal.

It was dangerous to leave the rest of our food and equipment behind as tell tale evidence, but it could not be helped.

I asked the head mission teacher to try to get everything out of the house into the

bush, and either hide it there or else bring it after me in due time if the Japanese delayed in coming up. Here after I intended to operate among the hill tribes behind Finschhafen.

About a mile or so from Sattelberg I called a halt, and assembled the radio set to try again to make contact with headquarters.

It must have been a strange sight. The various components of the set stood on the muddy ground beside the track, some almost hidden by grass. I had tied one end of the aerial to the stump of a tree on a small embankment. There was nothing suitable to which to tie the other end, so I got a native to hold it.

But he soon tired, letting the wire sag, so I induced another to hold it up in the middle with the aid of the distilled water bottle, to ensure insulation. Even then, the aerial was only about three feet off the ground.

What a thrill it was to hear the oper ator at Port Moresby reply at once! As so often happens,- the atmospheric con ditions had returned to normal soon after 7 a.m. I sent in my report and received a message, which, when decoded, told me that Madang had also been occu pied that same night, and that I was to warn Douglas and the airmen.

Just before he closed down the Moresby operator made the remark, “Your signals are not the best this morn ing.” If he had seen the aerial almost on the ground, and myself kneeling amidst the various units of the set, he would probably have wondered that the signals went out at all.

“Conditions are not always ideal,” I replied, leaving the rest to his imagina tion.

Then I heard 'some tinkling. Looking round I noticed that the horse, tied up nearby, had moved round till its hind legs were among the scattered equip ment. It had dragged its hoof over the hydrometer and was standing three inches from it —and the hydrometer was unharmed!

NEAR the next village my carriers left me. Evidently they wanted to go back and see to the safety of their own belongings and dependents, in case the Japanese came up.

I managed to get some new carriers, but not sufficient, so I strapped two units of the radio set into the stirrup leathers and led the horse.

Not many miles further on I again had to get new carriers at another vil lage, and there was considerable delay.

So the village that was reached towards evening was not many miles from Sat telberg.

I lay down in a hut without walls (in case I had to make a quick getaway).

My pack was beside me, my boots on my feet, and the rifle under my head. The horse was tied up only a few feet away, where there was, fortunately, good grass.

I had asked the village heads to make quite sure there would be sufficient car riers ready for an early start. But the news of the Japanese landing at Finsch hafen, besides the usual rumours which were doubtless circulating like wildfire, had made these people fidgety; and when an American heavy bomber, evidently on

the look-out for signs of the enemy, circled low around the village, there was a general stampede. Result: no carriers available next morning.

Then followed several days of gradual progress, with delays due to difficulty in obtaining carriers. During these days headquarters informed me that, in view of the new developments, my two mates, Pursehouse and McColl, had been in structed to rejoin' me, and we were to concentrate on the Finschhafen area.

ON the morning of Christmas Eve, headquarters passed me a message, but I had no time to decode it, be cause the carriers were all waiting. I had to dismantle the set immediately the call was finished and hurry after the carriers.

Then I made the acquaintance of the first of those heart-breaking gorges which scar most of the interior of the Huon Peninsula, and climbing down and out of which was to become a common occurrence with us in the ensuing months.

About half-way up the other side of this 2,000 ft. gorge I made a halt for a rest. Here was an opportunity to decode the message.

“Obst"killed, Butteris captured . . .” were the words that gradually came out letter by letter.

W/O. G. A. Obst, a fellow-South Aus tralian, who had been a lay-worker in the Finschhafen mission for about twenty years, whose friendship and hos pitality we had frequently experienced on our trips to the mainland, who had joined the Army the same day as we had, who had taken part in the New Britain evacuation with us, and who was one of our party in the Madang area, had fallen in the service of his country at Cape Gloucester while engaged there on similar duties to ours. Sad tidings indeed, especially on the day which brings us anew the Glad Tidings of Great Joy.

At Kulungtufu, the crowds were as sembling for Christmas Eve. This was one of those mission centres with a large iron-roofed church, at which a head mis sion teacher (native) was stationed. Just before sundown the bell rang, and the crowds began to stream up the little knoll on which the church stood. There were probably a thousand or more, all wearing the best loin-cloths and dresses that they still possessed, and the moving mass of reds, blues, greens, yellows and white had a dazzling effect.

The native language used in this area is not the same as we used on our own mission field,. A teacher who speaks both tongues sat beside me and gave a run ning, whispered translation of the vari ous addresses. At least three or four teachers spoke.

To see this multitude of natives in a a land where war had been going on for almost a year with great ferocity, where normal life and activities had ceased, celebrating Christmas reverently and wholeheartedly, to hear the addresses and the vigorous singing, was the best antidote to that morning’s sad news. It is in situations like this that one learns to value the fact of having a Saviour from sin Who comforts and helps.

And when one realised that govern ment control had ceased among these people almost a year ago .and then to see them living peaceful, law-abiding lives, was certainly a tribute to Chris tianity.

IHAD now reached what I considered a comparatively safe area. My next task was to see whether our stores and equipment could be saved from Sat telberg,and to find out what I could about Japanese activities.

Leaving the radio set at a small vil lage not far from Kulungtufu, I scouted back. I now required only three carriers, and their loads were exceptionally light, so in one day we travelled a distance that had taken us two days on the way out, including the climb down and out of the river gorge.

On reaching our destination that night we were told that the native head mis sion teacher had managed to get all our stores and equipment away from Sattel berg and that everything was being brought after me.

Later, I learned that the Japanese had delayed two days before coming up. The natives had not only taken our things out, but they had also removed all evi dence of recent occupation of the houses, with the result that the Japs, after a thorough look through all the buildings, returned to Finschhafen, evidently satis fied that there was nothing suspicious.

The foregoing should show clearly how untruthful are such stories as the one put over the ABC some time later, alleging that “Lutheran missionaries in New Guinea had been training the natives to help the Japanese.”

I had to wait no more than half a day when the carriers began to arrive.

What joy to see my box of tools again, without which we would often have been in difficulties. To be able to have a drink of tea or coffee again, after ten days, was also a real pleasure.

Before I knew that our supplies had been saved, I had conserved my small meat supply, and had at one stage gone for six days without opening a tin. Now I again had several cases of meat before me.

What had arrived required about forty carriers, but there was less difficulty now in obtaining them, for the natives were gradually getting over the apprehension caused by the new Japanese move. Two days later I was back where I had left the radio, and found that Pursehouse had arrived about an hour before me.

Under such circumstances it is quite a thrill to see a white fellow-man again.

McColl had been left at a village two days’ trek back. It was not wise to have both our radios and all our supplies too close to the enemy areas.

AFTER a day spent in selecting and packing requirements for the next move, Pursehouse and I set out, tak ing the radio along. It will help to understand our problems of movement when I explain that even on good tracks with easy grades it required at least eight sturdy carriers to transport the radio set with its batteries, charging motor, fuel and accessories. On bad tracks it required twelve or more. And we certainly struck the bad tracks now.

We crossed the gorge again, not by the main track, but on one not used \;ery frequently, where slithering on steep and slushy by-ways, stumbling over roots and logs overgrown with grass, and break ing through the jungle where fallen trees blocked the track, was the order of the day.

Oiir clothing was saturated with sweat, mud and rain. Our boots, waterlogged and thickly coated with mud, were heavy as lead.

We Diet a party of natives who were clearing out from the Finschhafen area, and they warned us to leave the area altogether, since the Japanese were looking for us. We doubted their story and went on.

When we had, in our opinion, gone far enough, we settled down in a village for a few days. By piecing together bits of information obtained from numerous natives, we gathered that the Japs were not patrolling far afield from Finsch hafen, and that mainly to buy food. They were evidently consolidating at Finsch hafen. Though the natives were strictly kept outside the Jap base, we were able to get an approximate idea of the loca tion of anti-aircraft and naval guns.

Since it would have been looking for trouble to stay in one place too long, we moved back again, arriving where we had left the rest of our outfit a fortnight after we had started on this patrol.

By this time we were running short of benzine and certain foodstuffs. So we de cided to go back to where McColl was, since he was arranging for our require ments to be dropped by parachute. To reach him we had to cross another gorge, similar to the one with which we were now so familiar, but with a climb of about 3,000 ft. on the other side in stead of 2,000 ft.

After this, another day brought us to McColl at Ogeramnang. Two days be fore we reached him he had had the ex citement of a Liberator dropping several parachute loads of supplies.

WE now settled down to rest and go over our clothing and equipment, making the necessary repairs and adjustments.

After nine days, Pursehouse and Mc- Coll set out on another patrol. They had formed a plan of scouting right back to Sattelberg—and further, if possible.

They travelled light and did not take Mac’s teleradio along. When nearly a fortnight had elapsed, I became anxioqs about them. But after sixteen days, they returned. Pursehouse’s knee had given out, and the return journey had been slow and painful. Otherwise everything had gone smoothly.

Among other things, McColl had one night sneaked right down to the old mis sion airstrip, between Heldsbach and Finschhafen. His purpose was to dis prove a vicious rumour. Someone had reported that Wagner had had the air strip cleared, in preparation for the Jap landing. We were asked to investigate.

Pursehouse immediately recognised this as but another one of the nasty fab rications, evidently inspired by some hateful purpose, of which quite a number had come under his notice during the months that he was Officer in Charge at Finschhafen, before the Japanese en tered the war.

Little more than a week before the

Japs landed at Finschhafen, I myself had been on that airstrip, looking for a stray parachute and load. The biggest part of the strip was then covered with grass and weeds up to six feet high. And we knew that the facts were the very op posite of the rumour.

The local natives, being used to the idea that the airstrip had to be kept clear in normal times, had come to Wag ner and suggested that they would cut the grass and undergrowth. He had told them not to do it. And when McColl went to inspect it, as referred to above, he found the growth just as we had known it in previous months.

Pursehouse also did a night-time “snoop.” He followed a back track down to Finschhafen, which brought him near the rear of the hospital area. The facts that emerged from both these and other investigations showed that the Japs were fortifying the Finschhafen area, but that they had no permanent outposts, and were not beginning any native adminis tration.

Pursehouse and McColl brought back with them a plan for future activities, which brought the Japanese hornet-nest upon us and nearly ended in our des truction. But that will have to form the subject of the next article.