by Peter Watt
Bruce noticed that the three Japanese guards assigned to his group carried spades and had bayonets fixed on their rifles. He suddenly felt sick with fear. The undergrowth they were moving through was tall and dense and the other groups were breaking away and being taken off out of sight. Bruce knew he had to act now; he would rather be shot trying to escape than go passively to his execution. When they came to a bend in the track and the overconfident guards lost sight of their line of prisoners, Bruce ducked down and rolled into the bush.
When he came to a halt he lay still and barely breathing until he could hear the party move on, and then slithered, his hands behind his back, through the undergrowth. When the shouting and screaming began, he thanked God that he was not witnessing his comrades’ final moments. The massacre at the Tol plantation had begun.
2
The local people informed the nuns at the mission station that the Japanese soldiers were very close.
Jessica joined the other nuns kneeling in the chapel where Sister Michael led them all in prayer. Rosary beads slid between nervous fingers as the beads counted off the Hail Marys and Our Fathers. The distant crackle of small arms fire intruded on their prayers, and the women held their breath in terrified anticipation.
‘I think we have prayed enough for now,’ the mother superior said calmly. ‘It is time that we resumed our daily duties so that we do not show fear to the Japanese when they arrive. We are a religious order, and no threat to armed men, so go in God’s grace.’
Each nun rose unsteadily from the narrow wooden kneeling rails and reluctantly left the sanctuary of the chapel. When Jessica stepped outside into the midday sun she saw the young man, Rabasumbi, who had hailed her the day before. His skin was glistening and she could see that he was very frightened. It was obvious that he wanted to talk to her and Jessica walked over to him.
‘Sister Camillus,’ he said in a whisper. ‘I have something to tell you – but not here.’
Jessica was puzzled by his secretive manner but followed him a short distance from the nuns, now filing away to their daily duties. They stopped by a hedge of frangipani trees blooming their vivid flowers.
‘A soldier man is in the bush,’ Rabasumbi said in his local dialect, flicking his eyes around as if the Japanese soldiers had already arrived. ‘He is hurt and has his hands bound. He needs help.’
‘Why can’t you help him?’ Jessica asked, and the young man looked away nervously.
‘I am afraid,’ he said. ‘The man is hurt, and you are a medicine person.’
Jessica would hardly describe herself as a medical person but she had developed a good knowledge of treating the many wounds the local people suffered in the course of their arduous physical work.
‘Can you take me to him?’ Jessica asked.
Rabasumbi nodded. ‘But I cannot stay,’ he said. ‘The Japanese soldiers are everywhere and will be here at the mission before the midday meal.’
‘I will go to our dispensary and get some basic medical supplies. You wait here and we will go to the soldier together,’ Jessica said.
The man said he would wait but Jessica should be quick.
She hurried away quickly and made her way to the dispensary. Sister Clement was in charge of the small room with its glass-paned cabinets holding supplies of antiseptics and ointments. Jessica greeted her and the older nun rose from behind her desk.
‘Can I help you, Sister Camillus?’ she asked when Jessica opened the cabinet where the antiseptics were kept.
‘Could you please give me a roll of bandages?’ Jessica asked, and the older nun frowned.
‘It is not time to dispense medicines. Why do you need bandages?’
Jessica knew where the bandages were kept and opened a draw in the tall wooden cabinet against the wall. She found them neatly rolled on a shelf and took two of the largest rolls.
‘Sister Camillus, you cannot take them without authorisation from Mother Superior,’ Sister Clement protested. ‘What is your emergency?’
‘It is better that you don’t know,’ Jessica replied, bundling her medical stores together in a billum that had been handcrafted by one of the local women. It was a work of art and could stretch to hold a baby if needed for that purpose. Without another word Jessica left the dispensary, leaving a speechless Sister Clement in her wake. But not so speechless to prevent her reporting the unusual and unauthorised taking of the medical supplies to the mother superior as soon as Jessica had left.
Jessica found Rabasumbi waiting for her at the edge of the thick rainforest, and without speaking the two of them disappeared into the jungle. They walked along a narrow, well-beaten trail until they were about a mile from the missionary station, and here Rabasumbi broke away from the track and clambered into the thick undergrowth. Jessica cursed her cumbersome dress as she navigated the clinging foliage, but they did not have to go far before they came upon the soldier, lying on his stomach with his hands tied behind his back.
At first Jessica thought the man was probably dead as he did not move when she knelt down beside him. She always carried a small pocket knife with her and retrieved it from under her skirts and used it to cut the thick fishing line. It was only when she cut the binding that the man uttered a low moan.
‘Help me roll him over,’ Jessica commanded.
Rabasumbi knelt, and they both rolled the soldier over. Jessica could see from his tattered uniform that he was a sergeant, and that he looked old for a soldier. He was probably about her father’s age and for a second the young nun had a pang of intense pity for the unshaven and gaunt-faced man. It was as if her own father had decided to go back to war, and the thought terrified her.
They could not see any critical wounds but the soldier had many small lacerations, probably from the sharp thorns of rainforest flora.
‘Who are you?’ Jessica asked the man.
‘Sergeant Bruce King of the NGVR,’ he said hoarsely and Jessica beckoned to Rabasumbi to pass the water bottle he carried. Jessica held it to the sergeant’s mouth and he took many sips before he continued talking. ‘The bloody Nips executed my mates back at the Tol plantation,’ he said. ‘You should get away from here.’
‘I’m sure the Japanese will leave us alone,’ Jessica replied, but without much conviction.
‘I don’t think those yellow little bastards will spare nuns,’ Bruce said bitterly. ‘Helping me could be a death sentence for you, sister.’
Jessica nodded in acknowledgement and helped the Australian sergeant to sit up and prop himself against a tree. He was getting a little colour back into his grey cheeks but she could see that he was still shocked by his experience of escaping what sounded like a cold-blooded slaughter. ‘What are you going to do now?’ she asked.
‘We were told that as a contingency we should fall back to the north coast for evacuation,’ Bruce said. ‘If I get there I might have a hope of getting off this bloody island and back to Australia.’
‘I will return to my mission station and get you some food, Sergeant King,’ Jessica said. ‘Then you will be in God’s hands after that.’
Bruce reached out and gripped Jessica’s hand. ‘Thank you, sister, you are a true angel,’ he said. ‘I don’t even know your name.’
‘I am Sister Camillus,’ she replied. ‘Stay here and Rabasumbi will return with some supplies.’
Jessica stood up and informed the young New Britain man of her plan. He nodded hesitantly and they turned back up the track, leaving the Australian NCO propped against the tree. When Jessica and Rabasumbi reached the edge of the forest bordering the mission station they froze. The Japanese soldiers had arrived and all the nuns and local workers were gathered in a clearing beside the mission buildings. A Japanese truck was pulled up and Jessica could see a manned machine gun in the back, covering the little cluster of terrified people.
‘They are going to kill everyone,’ Rabasumbi gasped. ‘
We must run away from here.’
Jessica could just hear the loud voice of a Japanese soldier, speaking relatively good English, berating the nuns. From what she could discern they were being told that they were now prisoners of the Emperor of Japan and must obey all orders.
‘I don’t think they’re going to kill us,’ Jessica said quietly. ‘We must make our way to the buildings without being noticed.’
Jessica stepped out from the forest and walked with Rabasumbi towards the mission station. They were almost there when a Japanese soldier began screaming at them and hurrying over with his pistol drawn. Jessica froze where she stood, and Rabasumbi did the same. The soldier, who appeared to be an officer, was a squat man with broad features. When he was about five paces away he raised the pistol and fired. Jessica heard Rabasumbi grunt and fall to the ground beside her. She turned to see the young man staring with unseeing eyes at the beautiful blue sky with its spatter of fluffy clouds. He had a black mark on his forehead, but otherwise looked uninjured. Jessica couldn’t take it in, it seemed unreal, impossible.
The shot brought a tumble of other Japanese soldiers to the officer’s side.
‘Who are you?’ a taller, bespectacled officer asked in English.
‘I am Sister Camillus,’ Jessica replied in a whisper.
‘Why were you not with the others when we arrived?’ the interpreter demanded.
Still shocked by Rabasumbi’s death, Jessica was at a loss for words. Her mind reeled and she hoped that she would not collapse.
‘Sister Camillus was sent to the jungle to look for healing herbs,’ called Sister Michael, hurrying over. ‘I sent the young man you have just killed to accompany Sister Camillus so that she would not become lost.’
The interpreter turned to the mother superior with a frown. ‘Wouldn’t it be the custom to have another nun accompany Sister Camillus, not a man?’
Sister Michael looked taken aback by the Japanese soldier’s knowledge of the sisterhood’s rules.
‘These are not normal times,’ Sister Michael answered quickly, holding the interpreter’s gaze. A flicker of acceptance crossed the soldier’s face and he turned to explain to the officer holding the pistol. The man slipped his pistol back into the holster and stomped away. The other soldiers followed him and began searching the mission station; only the interpreter remained.
‘Do we have permission to bury this young man?’ the mother superior asked him.
‘I am sure that you can do that,’ the interpreter answered. ‘It is the Christian thing to do.’
‘Are you a Christian?’ Sister Michael asked.
‘It is not wise to be a Christian in the Imperial Japanese Army,’ the young soldier answered quietly. ‘But there are a few that I know of.’
‘You did not answer my question,’ Sister Michael persisted.
The Japanese soldier looked away towards his comrades entering and exiting the buildings. ‘But I wish I was not involved in the capture of nuns. However, we are at war and my duty is to the emperor. I will leave you to arrange the burial.’
The Japanese soldier strode away, leaving the two nuns alone with Rabasumbi’s body. Sister Michael turned to Jessica with fury in her face.
‘Where did you go without my permission?’ she asked angrily. ‘I was informed that you took medical supplies with you.’
‘Rabasumbi told me that he had discovered a wounded Aussie soldier in the jungle not far from here,’ she replied, red-faced. ‘I went to render assistance.’
Her answer appeared to take some of the fury from her superior’s expression. ‘By doing that you have put us all at risk,’ Sister Michael said. ‘The Japanese do not appear to need much encouragement to massacre us all. You saw what happened to this unfortunate soul at our feet.’
‘I am sorry, Mother Superior, but I thought it was God’s will that we should help all those who need us,’ Jessica explained.
‘You did God’s work,’ Sister Michael conceded, ‘but I do not like lying on your behalf. Make sure you do not tell anyone else of your actions and that you do not leave the mission again, for any reason whatsoever.’
The two nuns walked away from Rabasumbi’s body, suspecting it would not be the last they would see under Japanese occupation. Sister Michael headed off to find someone to dig a grave, but Jessica needed to go somewhere quiet away to compose herself. Her mind was still reeling and yet she knew that an Australian soldier was out in the jungle relying on her to help him stay alive. She faced a terrible dilemma: should she obey Sister Michael and perhaps put the soldier’s life at risk, or disobey her to help the man make his escape and so put the lives of her fellow nuns at risk? It was an impossible choice to make.
*
Later, around sunset, Jessica was making her way to the school hut when she noticed the mother superior, her long skirt hitched up, hurrying towards her. When she reached her, Jessica could see the absolute fear in her face.
‘You have been betrayed,’ Sister Michael gulped. ‘You must flee from here or the Japanese will execute you.’
Shocked, Jessica stood staring at Sister Michael. ‘Who has betrayed me?’
‘One of our natives knew that you went with Rabasumbi to give aid to that soldier in the bush, and I was informed by the interpreter. At this stage he is the only one who knows, but has given us the courtesy of warning me first before he is duty-bound to tell his superiors.’
‘Why would he tell you first?’ Jessica asked. ‘He is the enemy.’
Sister Michael glanced behind her at the cluster of missionary buildings. ‘He is a Catholic, and it happens that he was educated by our order in the USA before the war. I think he is a good man at heart. I have had one of the trusted native women leave a parcel for you at the edge of the forest. In it is everything you will need when you find the soldier. God willing, you will be able to escape with him. So, go now while the Japanese are preoccupied eating dinner.’
‘Thank you, Mother Superior,’ Jessica said. ‘I’m afraid there will be repercussions for you and the others if I escape.’
‘That is my concern,’ the nun replied. ‘We all place our trust in our Saviour, Jesus Christ. He will protect us.’
‘I should surrender myself,’ Jessica said. ‘I can explain that I have acted alone.’
‘It would do no good,’ Sister Michael said gently. ‘Besides, I think you have doubts about your calling. You are a wilful and intelligent young lady and you may do more good outside our vows of poverty, chastity and obedience.’
Jessica was stunned to hear the wise nun’s perception of her. Yes, she had many doubts, and it must have been obvious to this woman who seemed to know her so well. Tears welled in her eyes as Jessica reflected on what this moment meant. Sister Michael even in her stern approach to managing the mission station had been in a sense the only mother she had ever known, and now she was seeing her through different eyes. Impulsively she hugged the nun, who stiffened at the embrace.
‘Go, child,’ Sister Michael said quietly. ‘May God guide you in the difficult times ahead.’
Jessica released the embrace and wiped her eyes. Sister Michael turned her back and walked slowly down the hill. Jessica watched her for a moment, then moved to the edge of the forest. Within minutes she found the canvas bag the native woman had left for her. When she undid the string she found it contained a pair of men’s khaki trousers, a floppy hat and a cotton shirt, along with a few tins of bully beef and a small sack of rice. Two water bottles and a metal cooking pot were also enclosed, with a can opener and two sets of knives and spoons.
Jessica discarded her nun’s clothing and dressed in the trousers and shirt. She kept her shoes and carefully wrapped the habit in the canvas bag. She placed the food and water in another smaller bag that had been enclosed in the parcel, then slung the bag over her shoulder. By the time she had made ready, the sun was below the horizon of the surr
ounding hills. Jessica prayed that the track she had taken with Rabasumbi was not being patrolled by the Japanese and plunged into the dense jungle to seek out the wounded Australian soldier.
However, it quickly became too dark to continue, so Jessica was forced to pull off the track to sleep on the damp ground. She spent a long, lonely night being bitten by insects and startling in fright at any rustle in the undergrowth, and when the sun rose in the morning her exposed face and hands were red and swollen with bites. All she could do was pray that none of the mosquitoes carried malaria.
Jessica opened a tin of bully beef and swallowed the warm, greasy meat. It gave her the strength to carry on, and within the hour she found the marker on the side of the trail indicating where she could find the soldier.
Jessica made her way cautiously through the thicker bushes and found Sergeant Bruce King still propped against the tree. His eyes were closed and she called softly to him. His eyes opened and she could see a look of shock on his face.
‘Is that you, Sister Camillus?’ he asked.
Jessica made her way to his side and took out a tin of bully beef, opened it and passed it to the weakened soldier. He scoffed down the tin’s contents, then took a long swallow of the water from the bottle Jessica passed to him.
‘I thought I was going to starve to death,’ he sighed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘How come you’re dressed like a man? I almost didn’t recognise you in that kit.’
‘The Japanese found out I was helping you. Someone warned my mother superior, and so here I am. My fate is to escape with you.’
The Australian sergeant nodded. ‘You know that if the Nips catch us it will mean certain death?’
‘If I had remained at the mission station I’m sure I would be dead by now,’ Jessica responded, rising to her feet. ‘If you are able to walk I think that we should get going.’