"Captain Indomitable"

An Appreciation of the Work of Capt. Jock Laird—by “Pat.”

MANY thrilling stories have been told in the "PIM” of the gallantry of Australian residents in New Guinea during the Japanese occupation. But one of the many unassuming men who dis tinguished themselves in rescue work but never got recognition except through the impartial admiration of all Terri torians, is “Jock” Laird, Scots master and engineer of the 50-foot government administrative schooner “Nereus.”

I met Jock Laird in the first days of World War 11. And it was then he told me a few incidents in his interesting life between the time he started his maritime career as engineer No. 7, in India, and his becoming Master of the “Nereus.”

He added other adventures to his score after the Japs came into the war. Two of his outstanding performances have come to my knowledge.

The first was a trip he made when the Japanese forces invaded Rabaul. On January 19, 1942, Laird left Lorengau. port for Manus, and made for Kavieng.

On January 20. Rabaul was heavily bombed by 100 Japanese planes and "Nereus” pulled in at Kavieng. There Laird met the Rev. J. M. Simpson, C. Mac kellar. W. C. Box, J. C. Goad. W. Atkin son, J. J. McEvoy, L. C. Saunders, and F. E. Caten. He asked them to come with him, but they preferred to stay: they would not leave their mates.

“Nereus” left the same night and the following morning the Japanese landed.

The schooner was by then hiding at D’joul (Mait) Island, where she stayed for eleven days, and where the whole crew except for one old-faithful, Sana san deserted and made for the bush.

Planes droned overhead; warships cruised and fired their guns; an airplane-carrier was ready for action; innumerous ships and boats of all sizes and descriptions ploughed the sea; the Japs went ashore on D’Joul and started fires at some places.

All these things Laird watched anxiously from his well-camoufldged hide-out.

There was only one other white man on board —a sick soldier.

Laird told Sanasan not to be frightened, because the Japs wanted only white men.

If the white men should be captured, he advised Sanasan to make for the next mission station. An attempt to contact McDonald, a planter on the island, by native messengers was unsuccessful; he was without instructions so Laird finally decided to risk a trip to Madang.

He reported there on March 2, with his one-man crew. Nobody will ever hear the full story of that trip. Laird himself is not a boaster; the soldier was too sick to take notice, and the native, Sanasan, is dead, having been killed in a plane-crash at Manus on March 12, 1945. It is worth digressing here to record that Sanasan was awarded the Loyal Service Medal in August, 1943, at Port Moresby, for gallantry and devotion to duty over a considerable period. Once he steered for 39 hours without relief .through enemy action. Among many acts of bravery he was largely respon sible for the return of an Allied vessel from enemy waters. To keep his eyes open, says Sanasan, he was chewing “kawawar,” some strong medicinal herb with stimulating effects.

Interesting is the mentality of Sanasan.

He was supposed to be a baptised Chris tian. But asked how he managed to dodge the Japanese planes and boats, he replied by showing a small bag con taining “magic” articles; it was his mas cot. However, it is hard to explain why the Japs did not bother about this government vessel which they surely must have seen.

AFTER Laird had been in Madang a couple of weeks he was sent up the Sepik and arrived in time to take part in dramatic events at Angoram on March 20, 1942, which have been recorded previously in “PIM.” The whole police force had run amok and intended to kill every white-man. After a fierce gun battle of over an hour the bullet-holed "Nereus” drifted down the muddy Sepik River.

After the “battle” was over, the greatest urge of the men was to leave that place of havoc and muddled con fusion. It was decided to take the “Nere us” to Australia.

On board were Laird (as master and engineer), J. Taylor (wounded). G. Shaw, E. J. Cook. H. C. Cecil. M. K. Lynch, C.

Grahame, J. H. Lang, W. R. Smith. F. H.

G. Simcocks, R. S. Moody, L. A. Bridger.

A. Price, B. J. McConnell and G. M.

Keogh—ls Europeans all in all—and one native as crew, the ever faithful Sanasan.

After some necessary preparations “Nereus” left Marienberg on the Sepik on Saturday, March 21, 1942, and made for Australia.

It was an adventurous trip. Repairs had to be done on the way and a lot of water had to be pumped out of the engine room. Pouring rain and heavy seas were the lot of the small boat as she plunged ahead with a maximum speed of five knots, slowly but safely. Miracu lously she passed through Jap infested waters and negotiated the dangerous minefields of the Barrier Reef. After many criss-cross cruising and zig-zag sailing it reached, on April 8, port' at last Mourilyn Harbour on the Queens land Coast.

Everybody was almost hysterical with joy; and the successful conclusion of the trip was celebrated with a few bottles of beer. Some of the men patted the St.

Christopher medal, and said: “Thanks, good old Chris.” (This St. Christopher medal was formerly attached to the Mis sion boat “Stella Maris” at Alexishafen.

How it came to the “Nereus” is a mystery.) And during the celebration a few drops of beer were inadvertently spilled on St. Christopher. This was re garded by some as a bad omen.

Next morning “Nereus” left Mourilyn Harbour at 3.30 a.m. The local pilot thereupon had a fit on the wheel and the ship grounded at 6 a.m. After homing all the way from New Guinea, there was mis fortune at the end, in safe waters.

Apparently beer did not agree with “Chris.”

JOCK LAIRD offered his services to the RAN when he reached Sydney and, ironically, was turned down because of his eyesight. But he is back in New Guinea waters again now—and back with his old love--running small ships for the Administration.