by Peter Watt
For a moment Tom thought about the offer. He would still be in the army and if the Japanese landed he would be back in the thick of the fighting again. ‘Sir, I would give my right arm to serve with the unit,’ he said, knowing it was the only option left to being demobilised.
‘Good,’ the major said, extending his hand. ‘I’ll get the paperwork together. I’m sure with your background you will be an asset to the lads. Congratulations on the MiD, and good luck, Sergeant Duffy.’
The major left and Tom smiled. He’d always known that the army would catch up with him eventually and find a way to send him home. Many of the older soldiers and officers were now being replaced as younger, experienced soldiers and officers of the AIF flowed into New Guinea to continue the bloody battles against the advancing Japanese army. Tom had heard a wounded soldier from another unit say that his battalion, down to two hundred and fifty men, had faced an enemy force of six thousand in his last fight. The once undertrained and under-armed boys of the militia battalions that had first blunted the Japanese advance had long lost the derogatory nickname of chokos from their AIF brothers.
Tom was both confused and annoyed that when he received newspapers from Australia there was only talk about the European war, and nothing about the fighting north of Australia. Admittedly they were fighting back but they were not winning. A war was not won retreating. Tom could not know that their stubborn defence was already being respected by an enemy who had underestimated the Australian character.
An army nursing sister in a clean and starched uniform approached Tom’s bed with fresh bandages. Tom glanced at her and thought that she was probably the same age as his daughter. At least returning to Australia he might get the opportunity to see Jessica again. He knew she was working in Brisbane, at the American HQ there. He was pleased that she had a clerical job that kept her away from the northern front where even the hospitals were subjected to Japanese aerial bombing.
‘Sergeant Duffy, how are we today?’ the pretty young nurse asked as she set down her tray of fresh bandages.
‘A lot better today, sister,’ he replied with a smile. Funny, he thought, that was once his daughter’s title, when she was a nun.
*
Jessica had put two and two together and realised that the Americans had broken the Japanese naval codes. She was intelligent enough to know that the messages she encoded for Allied distribution had to have come from some source well inside the enemy’s communications system.
One morning she was sent upstairs to the eighth floor to deliver a file, something she had done several times before, always accompanied by Tony Caccamo. Today she was standing in the reception area of General MacArthur’s office when she overheard a heated discussion between General MacArthur and Australia’s General Blamey boom through the wall. The American commander was berating the incompetence of the militia troops in their battle against the Japanese. Jessica felt her face redden with anger as she knew her beloved father was one of the militia who had fought in the dense jungles against a better armed and much larger force. General MacArthur ordered Blamey to start sacking commanders in New Guinea and replace them.
‘You can give me that file,’ an army clerk said from behind his desk.
Jessica handed over the file and the clerk signed for it.
The door was suddenly flung open to MacArthur’s office and out stormed a rather rotund, middle-aged man sporting a grey moustache. Jessica recognised him from newspaper photos as General Blamey. She stood to attention but he barely noticed her as he left the office suite, his face red with anger, a swagger stick jammed under his arm.
Before she could recover from her shock of seeing one of Australia’s military commanders, she became aware that a tall figure in an immaculately pressed uniform was standing only feet from her. She knew immediately it was General Douglas MacArthur, and their eyes met. Immediately, she did not like this arrogant man and wondered how they would win the war with him in charge of military strategy. Surely he was aware of how rugged the terrain was where her father was fighting a desperate battle.
He looked at her and frowned. Perhaps he had read her thoughts, Jessica shuddered. Without saying a word, he accepted a file from his clerk and walked back into his office, closing the door.
When she looked back at the clerk, he smiled at her. ‘You Aussies gotta learn who’s running the war out here,’ he said and returned to his paperwork.
Jessica joined Tony in the corridor where he was chatting to a couple of American military police. He looked at her face and saw the dark cloud of anger. They both set off to return to their own section downstairs.
‘I gather something has upset you,’ Tony said quietly.
‘Those damned fools in their safe offices don’t have a clue how tough it is for our troops up in New Guinea,’ she said bitterly.
‘Yeah, I get that impression, too,’ Tony said. ‘I heard that some order had come out of here to build a road across the Owen Stanleys to move supplies. So I had a look at a topographic map of the proposed route, and I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the stupidity of it all. It’s near damned impossible to build that son of a bitch road. I know your dad would agree with me.’
‘So, I gather you overheard something in the office,’ Tony continued. ‘You are aware that you cannot repeat anything you hear around here.’
‘Of course I know,’ Jessica snapped. ‘Sorry, Tony,’ she added in a more conciliatory tone. ‘I didn’t mean to take it out on you.’
‘I think it’s a good time you had a day off,’ Tony said. ‘I’ll talk to the colonel and get you leave for a day on the town.’
‘You can do that?’ Jessica said.
‘Only if I tell the colonel that I’ll be escorting you,’ Tony grinned.
‘That has to be better than nothing,’ Jessica sighed. ‘It would be nice to go down the coast to the beach and soak in the sun,’ Jessica admitted.
‘The beach it is,’ Tony said as they reached their office. ‘Leave it with me.’
Sure enough, Tony approached Jessica’s desk before her shift was up. ‘I have a twenty-four hour leave pass for us both,’ he said, holding up the precious pieces of paper. ‘They are in effect as from twenty four hundred hours tonight. I will pick you up around eight tomorrow morning and we will go to the beach. Any questions?’
‘Nope, it’s date,’ Jessica countered with a smile.
Tony responded with a broad smile of his own.
The following morning Jessica had packed a small hamper with sandwiches for a picnic, along with her swimming costume. She heard the car pull up outside her bungalow surrounded by tropical trees and went to the door to welcome Tony. He stepped out of the borrowed staff car marked with the American star and immediately she could see the grim expression on his face.
‘I’m sorry, Jessie,’ he said, walking back to her. ‘All leave has been cancelled. We have to go back on duty.’
‘What has happened?’ Jessica asked.
‘The news has come through that the Japs are on the heights overlooking Port Moresby and it seems that the town might fall. HQ is in a bit of a panic. I think Doug is worried that his career is on the line if the Japs take the town. But knowing the general as I do, he will blame it on your Aussie general. You will have to get changed into your uniform and I will drive us back into town.’
Jessica groaned and went back inside to change. Her first real date and duty got in the way. At least she had the consolation of knowing that her father was back in Australia and out of harm’s way.
*
Captain David Macintosh still retained command of the company and knew from intelligence reports that the Japanese had inexplicably commenced a retreat from the heights above Port Moresby. General MacArthur along with General Blamey had arrived in Port Moresby seeking out scapegoats. Some of the most competent commanders in the Australian Army were sacked to appease t
he American commander, who declared that the fightback was to commence.
However, it had already commenced before his declaration, and now the jungle war was in reverse with the Australian diggers pursuing the withdrawing Japanese army along the same track north.
David led his company on a march north with the rest of the battalion. It was physically tough as the men found themselves in a steady climb over razor-sharp ridges in the Magila Range. Finally they descended in a lather of sweat to a clearing at the base of one of the rugged hills. It had been set out as a stores landing zone for incoming Allied aircraft.
David had his platoon commanders establish defensive perimeters, and they all watched in awe as the Douglas Dakota twin-engine transport aircraft virtually glided down from the crests of the hills to treetop level and disgorge their cargo of boxed supplies. Then the aircraft roared along the valley towards hills where they would open throttles and just clear the crests, before returning to do another run. Even David was impressed with the skill of the young American pilots.
‘At least the lucky bastards get to fly back to Moresby and have a shower, eat a meal off a plate and sleep out of the rain,’ Lieutenant Peter Herbert sighed beside him, watching the last aircraft drone away.
‘Yeah, but look at all the fun they miss out not being able to camp out under the stars,’ David said. ‘Why would any fool give that up?’
Peter laughed. The life of an infantry soldier was as basic as it got in any army. ‘So, when do we have an orders briefing?’ he asked.
David glanced at his wristwatch. ‘In an hour, here,’ he said. ‘Get the word to the others. I want section leaders involved.’
‘Righto,’ Peter said, hefting himself to his feet with the use of his rifle butt. ‘Who are those blokes?’ he asked, spotting three men in the long kunai grass making their way towards them.
David stood up but did not recognise the three soldiers. ‘Go and bring them here,’ David said and Peter ambled over to the men. After a short conversation he brought them back to David.
‘They say they’re from the arty and want to join us so they can get into the fight,’ Peter said as David looked at each man carefully. ‘They reckon their own mob will be kept back at Moresby.’ The three soldiers appeared uncomfortable under David’s scrutiny.
‘You realise that your clearly unapproved leave of absence from your unit is actually desertion,’ David said sternly, noting that they were all carrying rifles and ammunition. ‘But if you want a fight, then you have come to the right place. Stick them in your platoon, Mr Herbert,’ David said with a grin. ‘Let’s see if our brothers from the artillery are as good with rifles as they are with twenty-five-pounders. We’re going to need every rifle we can get when we catch up with the Japs.’
A couple of days later the battalion commander was informed of the recent recruits and David held his breath, expecting a dressing-down.
‘May as well sign them up as official members of the battalion,’ he said, pulling a pained face.
For the next couple of days the battalion moved forward but then found themselves spending time repairing an airfield at Menari. David was frustrated by the work as he wanted to close with the enemy. At least he did get a letter from Allison brought up to them from Moresby in the battalion mail delivery. David took it back to his slit trench where he sat on the edge and opened it.
My dear David,
I hope that this letter finds you well.
I am annoyed that our newspapers do not report the war in New Guinea which means I am unable to follow where you may be when you receive my words. People around me are always complaining of how hard life is, and I become annoyed when I know the terrible things that you and your men must put up with.
Your cousin, Sarah has been ill with her pregnancy . . .
David was startled by the news that Sarah was pregnant. He'd never for a moment given credence to Sean's insinuations about Sarah's marriage to Charles Huntley but maybe he should have.
. . . Sarah and I have been meeting regularly, and she seems to have changed a lot. I fear her desire to be the boss of the Macintosh businesses is more important to her than motherhood. But it is not up to me to judge my friend’s life.
Will you be given leave? I hope so as I would love to see you again. I hope that I hear from you soon.
Yours sincerely
Allison.
The letter was brief and rather brusque, David thought as he folded it and slipped it into a small wallet he kept for her letters. Something had happened back in Sydney, and all David could do was puzzle.
‘Boss, the skipper is on the blower to you,’ his signaller called.
David closed the folder and walked over to the radio. The war was to go on, and there was nothing he could do so far from home and safety. He knew the name of every man in his company and they were his family. War was his occupation.
25
Sarah could not believe what she was hearing. The members of the board sat around the big table smiling as her brother revealed the new government contract for supplying beef to the American armed forces. Charles sat away from Sarah and was silent, but when she caught his eye he looked away evasively.
The meeting ended and the board members retired for tea and scones. Sarah glared at Charles sipping a cup of tea in the boardroom, while her brother accepted the backslapping with obvious relish. Sarah made her way to Charles and guided him to a corner of the room.
‘How did my brother know about the government contract?’ she hissed.
‘One of my contacts told me about it, and I thought in your present condition that you would rather Donald handle it.’
‘My present condition!’ Sarah exclaimed. ‘I’m pregnant – not ill. You promised that we would work together. Look at my brother, the board are all over him. That should have been my announcement, not his.’
‘Sarah, you have a prominent position in your family’s business,’ Charles said. ‘Does it really matter who makes the profits?’
Sarah swung on her husband. ‘It does,’ she said with some force. ‘The companies are best left in my hands. I remember when all Donald wanted was to be manager of a cattle station, and now he thinks he can be head of an organisation as profitable as this one. I’m the one best suited to run the family’s affairs, not Donald.’
‘But you will be raising our baby,’ Charles reasoned.
‘Haven’t you heard of hired help?’ Sarah dismissed. ‘Our family has a long tradition of nannies and governesses. When the baby arrives I will be in a position to return to the boardroom.’
‘How does your father feel about your ambitions?’ Charles asked.
‘He is fully behind me,’ she replied. ‘He has come to accept that Donald is not the right person for the top job.’
‘The beef deal might change his mind,’ Charles said calmly.
For a moment Sarah felt a pang of fear. What if her father changed his mind about Donald’s competence?
‘I will speak to him,’ she said. ‘I will tell him that you went behind my back. Treachery is not something my father appreciates – nor do I.’
‘Speaking of treachery,’ Charles said in an icy tone, ‘I have been told that you have been seen in night spots cavorting with men. It might explain why you only appear at dawn at our house.’
‘It’s not your house,’ Sarah retorted. ‘The house will one day be mine.’
‘And our marriage?’ Charles asked, glaring at Sarah. ‘What of that?’
‘I don’t really care, Charles,’ she said. ‘Divorce is not an option at this stage with the baby due but if you wish to move out I am sure we can find a reasonable excuse for you to be closer to the office. It worked for my mother.’
Charles paled. He stared at Sarah as if seeing her for the first time. Who was this stranger he had married? ‘I will consider that option,’ he said and realised that
his hands were trembling.
Sarah turned her back and walked away.
‘Aren’t you going to congratulate me?’ Donald said when Sarah approached him, but she brushed past him with a scowl.
Donald shrugged and returned to speaking with the manager of their cattle property portfolio.
‘Women,’ he said with a smirk. ‘They get a bit testy when they’re pregnant.’
*
Jessica had little time for anything but her job. The only time she had contact with Tony was when he acted as chauffeur and picked up the women who worked at the HQ, and the times he appeared in the office to carry out a task for the colonel. At least when he was around the office he would find an excuse to share a meal with her at a small cafe not far from the HQ. Over the months she’d known him, all she’d been able to learn was that, besides once being a New York policeman, he actually held the rank of lieutenant in the military police. He had been attached to General MacArthur’s staff in the Philippines and had escaped to Australia. His role in the top-secret section of the HQ was to vet those who worked there and to carry out certain tasks of escorting sensitive files. Jessica suspected that he did more but knew she could not ask. Their brief moments together were the closest thing to a social life Jessica had. At nights she was too tired to do more than eat, shower and get a good night’s sleep. As important as her work was, it came with sacrifices.
One day Tony purchased sandwiches and suggested that they go down to the Botanic Gardens to eat them in the shade of the magnificent fig trees. They settled down on the lawn and gazed across the river.
Jessica noticed that Tony had a wide smile on his face.
‘Well, what is it?’ she asked. ‘I can see that you’re bursting to tell me something.’