‘Hugh Mac

Hero Who Was Without Showmanship

A REPORT of the death by accident of Lieutenant-Commander H. A.

Mackenzie, DSC, Legion of Merit (Officer Division), and an outline of his remarkable achievements as a Coast Watcher in World War 11, are published on another page.

In the following article, Commander Eric Feldt, who was at school with Mr.

Mackenzie, and who selected his old friend to be his right-hand man in the critical coast-watching days of 1941-43, pays this tribute to the memory of a most lovable and an extremely brave man: PERHAPS Hugh Mackenzie (we all knew him always as “Hugh Mac”) had a quality even greater than his courage—and that was his gift for mak ing friends—and keeping them. Those friends now mourn that the Last Post has sounded for him, and they tender their sympathy to his widow, Betty.

He had had four years’ training at the RAN Naval College when, in 1917, as a youth of 18, he joined HMS “Glorious” as a midshipman and served in her and other ships for the remainder of World War I. While doing submarine training, he was on board one of the four sub marines rammed by our own ships in the disaster in the Firth of Forth, and barely escaped. Many more close calls were to come. , , When the war ended. Hugh Mac found the Navy in peacetime too dull, and he retired in 1920. A little later, he went to New Guinea as a schooner-skipper for the Expro Board. After serving two years, he went south and acquired his own vessel. In her, he traded and re cruited on the Papuan coast for four years. Back in New Guinea, he skippered a number of small vessels, trading, re cruiting and trochus fishing. How many narrow escapes he had in those days is not now known. He was a skilful sea man, but the coasts were unlighted and the reefs always waiting.

In Salamaua, he nearly died of illness —probably scrub typhus, which had not then been recognised. Only his will to live pulled him through.

He married. Betty, his wife, was just such another lover of the sea, and of not seeing the same things every morning when she woke up, as Hugh himself. To gether they traded and fished for trochus, living life as they wanted it. Then, when they had savoured roving to the full, they took up land at Megigi, near Talasea, and started a plantation.

When war broke out, Hugh Mac re joined the Navy, leaving his wife to run the plantation. After service m Port Moresby and Rabaul, and escape from the Japs, he was sent to Y to charge of the coast watchers in the South Pacific Area. He landed on Guadalcanal a week after the US Marines had taken it and set up his radio station m a Japanese foxhole. To him came the warn ings of Read, Mason and Kennedy of Jap aircraft on the way, and he passed them on, so that these attacks were met and defeated. In addition, he sent boats to rescue personnel cut off, placed new parties in the field and built up an organ isation throughout the Solomons, so that we knew more about the Japanese posi tions and movements than the Japanese headquarters did themselves.

But it was no office job for Hugh Mac.

The position was frequently bombed and

shelled and he himself was in a covered slit trench which was directly hit by a bomb. The others in the trench went to hospital, but Hugh Mac remained on duty, remarking that he “had a head ache.” He remained on Guadalcanal for eight months, and was awarded the Legion of Merit (Officer Division) by Admiral Halsey for his services.

In Sydney, while on leave, the hard ships he had suffered took toll, and he went down with blackwater. It was a near thing, but he recovered, only to have a second attack six weeks later. His indomitable will and fortitude pulled him through, but it was several months before he was fit for duty again. He was appointed to AIB Headquarters, but could not be kept south. Time after time he went north, to join in operations there.

For these, and his former services, he was awarded the Distinguished Service' Cross by the RAN.

WHEN the war ended, he remained in the Navy. His plantation had been partly cleared by the Japs for use as an airfield, and when they retired to Rabaul, they mined it. Even he would not undertake putting it in order again.

However, his duties frequently took him to New Guinea, where his old friends welcomed him. Life seemed set fair for the future.

It is amazing that, after all this, he, who had watched the scythe of the Grim Reaper pass so closely so often, should meet his death from a fall.

I have described his deeds, but more remains to describe the man. He was fair and sturdily built, with a shambling walk, very handsome Of face and looking much younger than his years. I can' call him a war hero now that he is dead —he would have punched my nose if I had done so when he was alive. And he was heroic, but that without showmanship or guile of any kind.

In peacetime, he lived his life for the pleasure he could get out of it—cheerful, carefree but not irresponsible, for Hugh Mac was beholden to no man. He ex pected others to look after themselves; he would help if needed, but had no yearning to direct other people’s lives for them. Perhaps he would have appreci ated another age—he would have fitted well with the Elizabethans.

His fortitude was amazing. Even as a fourteen-years-old cadet, he had shown it in the ring, taking punishment and coming back for more, till his opponent, beaten by the futility of hitting him rather than by Mac’s blows, gave in. In war, he took the hardship and danger as just part of the show, it was there and a man took it. The job had to be done.

And, at the worst times, he was cheerful, with never a whinge.