Forgotten Tragedy Of 1942

How "Momutu" and 80 Men Were Lost off S. Papua Coast

T ITTLE has been heard of one of the cruellest tragedies of the Pacific War, comparable with the loss of ihe Rabaul civilians on the “Monte Video Maru” This was the murder of 75 half- •castes and d handful of Europeans by the Japanese, in 1942, off the South Coast of Papua, near Torres Strait.

The dead included the well-known Port Moresby clergyman, the Rev. H. Matthews. We are indebted to his son, Mr.

Adrian N. Matthews, of Papua, for the data from which we have reconstructed the tragedy. It was known in 1942 that a tragedy had occurred, but even officialdom did not get the details for a long time.

RABAUL fell on January 23, 1942. Port Moresby had its first air raid early in the bright moonlit morning of February 3; and, thereafter, the Jap air fleets came regularly, and their attacks grew in intensity.

As the raids became more severe, strange things happened in and around Port Moresby. Telephone lines were cut near Jackson’s Strip (also called Seven Mile Strip); unexplained lights appeared when the planes were over on night sorties: and, during daylight, small white balloons appeared over the target area.

It was decided that, to forestall the half-castes becoming involved in any sabotage activities, the whole half-caste population be sent out to Daru (Western Papua) for the duration.

The first party of half-castes was sent away in June, 1942, and one of the

Europeans in charge of them was Mr.

Adrian Matthews. On August 5, the second party, comprising over 70 half castes and half-a-dozen Europeans left on the MV ‘“Mamutu”—an inter-island craft of about the same size and design as the now famous “Lakatoi.”

On the “Mamutu” was the Rev. H.

Matthews. He had not left Port Moresby with other civilians in February, At his own request he was permitted to remain and carry on as an Army Chaplain— chaplains then were few and far between, and he had plenty to do. But, after a few months, he was told he was “too old for the job,” and he would have to go South. Authority granted his request that, as- an alternative, he be allowed to join his son at Daru; and he embarked on the “Mamutu,” unknown to his son.

On August 5, the European garrison at Daru picked up a message from Murray Island (in Torres Strait) that a submarine had been seen proceeding in a north-easterly direction.

Two days later, on August 7, Daru received radio advice that the “Mamutu” had been sunk 25 miles east of Bramble Cay. Bramble Cay is 50 miles east of Daru—so the ill-fated ship met the Jap submarine 75 miles from her destination.

TMMEDIATELY, Mr. Gus O’Donnell got X the LMS launch “Oliver Tompkins” ready, and Lieutenant Ethell, Doug las McGregor and Adrian Matthews were sent off to seek for survivors. Little did Mr. Matthews guess that his father had been aboard the “Mamutu.”

The launch met terrible seas, and the three men had a wreched trip. They headed south-east, to where they calcu lated the currents would carry anything that floated away from the lost ship, and they called at Stevens and Darnley Islands to inquire whether anything had been seen. Then they went back to Bramble Cay, but found nothing. The little “Oliver Tompkins,” which had been built only for river-work, stood up splen didly to the heavy seas. After three days’ vain search, they returned to Daru.

All they had seen was a Sunderland flying-boat, evidently out on the same search.

Some time later Adrian Matthews was informed that his father was on the “Mamutu.” Then he was transferred to Milne Bay, and he departed eastwards on the “Rasputin.”

EN ROUTE to Port Moresby, the “Rasputin” called at Kikori (on the Gulf of Papua, about 100 miles north of where the “Mamutu” was sunk) and there they found one half-caste sur vivor from the “Mamutu.” Billy Griffen, and the surviving members of the crew of a Sunderland flying-boat, which had res cued him. From these men. Mr. Matt hew compiled the following account of what had happened.

In broad daylight on August 7, the Jap submarine surfaced half a mile from the “Mamutu,” and signalled them that they were not to use their wireless. The skipper ignored the order, however, and promptly sent out the SOS, and informa tion that he was being attacked.

The Jlap at once closed in to within 100 yards and began shelling the “Mam- Vitu.” The first shot carried away the bridge and superstructure, and following shots set fire to drums of fuel, which were stored on deck. The boats had been destroyed by the shells so all jumped

overboard, and did the best they could.

A number already had been killed by shell-fire.

While the people were struggling in the water, the Japs machine-gunned them, and many more were killed. But when the submarine departed, a number of men were still afloat, clinging to wreck age. Billy Griffen said that among them was the Rev. Mr. Matthews, who had hold of a piece of a life-boat. Next morning, he had disappeared.

The few drifting survivors were sighted next day by the searching Sunderland, in charge of Mike Mather, well known in Port Moresby. They brought the Sunderland down onto the water, beside the survivors—but the sea was apparently worse than they had thought, for a large

wave so damaged the sea-plane that it had to be abandoned, and the crew took to their rubber dinghies. One member of the crew was trapped, however, and went down with the plane. That left one vacant place in the dinghies, and Billy Griffen was taken aboard.

For no less than ten days, the Sunder land crew and Billy drifted in the dinghies, but finally they made a land fall near the mouth of the Bamu River, they were in bad condition, but they were helped by the Delta natives.

Subsisting on sago, and guided by natives, thev painfully made their way overland, across the numerous rivers and swamps of that unattractive region, to Kikora, where they were picked up by the “Rasputin,” and taken to Port Moresby.