by Peter Watt
Jack, on the other hand, had secretly been pleased that his son was unable to enlist. For Jack knew the horrors of war, which young men at first believed was a grand adventure. To have his son home beside him meant more than any fortune he was likely to gain with Iris returning to Australia en route to Papua. Tom Sullivan, his old friend and family lawyer, had written to Jack informing him of all that had transpired. The inheritance left to Iris and him was now being released from England under the terms of Lord George Spencer’s will. Tom Sullivan had gone on to say that it would all take some time as the war in Europe had caused chaos in London where the records were kept. Nevertheless, in the end he and Iris should inherit a small fortune. Needless to say, Jack would have preferred to have George back rather than his fortune, and he was sure Iris felt the same way. Jack had known great money when he owned a gold mine and was very aware of just how fleeting fame and fortune could be. After that, Victoria and the schooner had become his life and in that alone he had been content.
When the current cargo was delivered Jack planned to return to Moresby and take time off with a trip down to Cairns for a week’s pre-Christmas leave with Lukas. It would be a chance to catch up with old friends and do some Christmas shopping.
Jack returned to the cabin with a rare smile on his face and, glancing across at the calendar hanging on the wall, idly realised that he had not brought it up to date in the last couple of days. Leaning over the chart table, Jack ripped away the pages, each with its own numeral.
He stood back and thought what a wonderful day this was, with a lucky number. The numeral was a big black eight and the month above the numeral read December. On the eastern side of the International Date Line it would have read Sunday, 7 December, 1941.
The sails were unfurled and Lukas motored the schooner skilfully towards the sturdy wooden pier built by the native converts of the Church of England mission. Their arrival always caused excitement for they were bringing the wondrous produce of Western civilisation to be distributed to the mission staff.
Jack stood by his son at the wheel, puffing contentedly on his briar pipe. ‘The boys look a bit agitated,’ he mused, watching with an experienced eye. He could see the Anglican priest, the Reverend Bill Smith, dressed in working clothes, waving to them at the end of the pier.
Carefully, Lukas steered the Independence to the wharf whilst Momis and his fellow Solomon Islanders leapt from the boat to trail the ropes securing the schooner.
‘Have you heard?’ The reverend called excitedly above the din of the idling engine.
‘Heard what?’ Jack replied as the engine cut out.
‘The Japs have just sunk the Yank fleet in the Hawaiian Islands. We heard the news on the station wireless. It looks like we will be at war with Japan.’
‘God almighty,’ Jack swore. ‘That means they will come after us for sure.’
‘We have unconfirmed reports that they have launched attacks all over Asia … Hong Kong, Malaya, Singapore and the Philippines,’ the reverend said, helping Jack ashore.
‘Kind of lucky we have some supplies for you then,’ Jack said. ‘It might be a bit hard in the future if the Japs are coming south.’
‘I am sure the government will have a plan to evacuate us if that is so,’ the Anglican priest said. ‘Well, at least to get all European women and children back to Australia.’
Jack did not comment. Privately he did not have much faith in the government having any contingency plan for such an event. War in the Pacific had come too suddenly, despite a lot of warning signs out of Asia. Maybe now it was too late.
The cargo was unloaded under Momis’ supervision whilst Jack and Lukas walked up to the thatch buildings that constituted the mission station to take tea with the Reverend and his wife, Gwen. Jack could feel the fear in the airy room, although Gwen appeared calm as she busied herself with delivery of the tray for their morning tea of fresh baked scones and strawberry jam. The Anglican priest and his wife also had a fourteen-year-old daughter and were grateful for the fact that she was currently at a boarding school in Brisbane. Jack reassured Gwen that he would personally bring the Independence back to fetch them if the Japanese appeared to threaten their part of the world. His promise was gratefully received and after the morning tea, Momis came to inform Jack that their work was done.
Gwen handed Jack a small canvas bag of mail to be posted from Port Moresby and their farewells were made at the wharf. Then the schooner steered away to swing about and take a course back to Moresby.
At sea Jack broke open the supply of arms he carried aboard: two bolt action rifles and his old Webley Scott service revolver. Not that he figured they would be much good against a Jap naval vessel but at least they were reassuring to have at hand.
A watch was posted throughout the voyage but the trip was uneventful. The welcome sight of Port Moresby came into view within five days at sea and when Jack and Lukas went ashore the first thing they sought was news of the war. All they had heard since the attack on Pearl Harbor confirmed Jack’s worst fears: the Imperial Japanese Navy had sunk the mighty British battleships Prince of Wales and Repulse off the east coast of Malaya. The dreadnoughts had been assigned to the Pacific by Britain as a supposedly tangible warning to the Japanese.
Within hours of contact with the Japanese both capital warships lay at the bottom of the ocean after being attacked by flights of torpedo and bomber aircraft. When Jack heard the news he immediately thought about Bernard Duvall. At least theYanks had seen this coming, he thought. Now Australia would have to reach across the Pacific to its neighbour and seek help. If Singapore fell then it would herald the end of Britain’s role in defending Australia in Asia. Jack was also acutely aware that they would be fighting for their very survival and that Papua and New Guinea would be the front line to the defence of Australia. Christmas and leave in Cairns were far from Jack’s thoughts. What was uppermost in his mind was his role in the fight to come. There was no way anyone could keep him out of his second world war. Acceptance of his enlistment in the New Guinea Volunteer Rifles had been approved and he was now Sergeant Jack Kelly.
Sweat streamed down Fuji’s face as he chipped away at the vegetable garden with a hoe. Once Sen had helped set up his contact with one of his less than reputable Chinese business acquaintances, it had been relatively easy blending into the Chinese quarter of the New Britain township bordered by the range of volcanoes. For a substantial wad of Australian bank notes the Chinese businessman had asked no questions of his paying resident. Fuji spoke no Chinese so both men communicated in English. Fuji posed as a Chinese labourer and found himself working in the garden to avert any suspicion from neighbours. He despised his Chinese employer and the squalid corrugated iron lean-to he had been allocated at the bottom of the vegetable garden for his quarters. It had no sides and the heavy rains ran through to soak his few personal possessions. The Japanese sailor vowed to settle with the Chinese shopkeeper when his comrades eventually arrived. Fuji understood the strategic importance of Rabaul Harbour, considered one of the best in the world. It would be needed as a staging post for any invasion of the Australian mainland. Its protected waters were capable of holding a fleet and were deep enough for submarines to come and go on their deadly patrols. The surrounding high ground could be reinforced with troops to protect the harbour from any attempt to counter-attack.
Oh how Fuji had dreamed of being aboard one of the great aircraft carriers or battleships of the Imperial navy when the arrogant Americans had been defeated at Pearl Harbor so easily. Instead, he had been instructed to remain around the township of Rabaul to watch and report on any moves the Australians might make to fortify the strategic port. They had even left a radio with him when he had been put ashore weeks earlier. The radio was well hidden in the jungle and he had no trouble slipping away from the Chinese trader to make his scheduled reports. He had been successful in sending his latest report on the deployment of the poorly equipped infantry battalion sent from Australia and of the coastal guns gu
arding the harbour’s entrance, as well as general reports on a list of key government targets in the town and surrounding area.
Sooner or later his comrades would come to Rabaul and seize the town. Maybe by then the Australians would have surrendered their country, Fuji thought, bending over to tug at a particularly stubborn clump of weed. He hoped this would not deny him the opportunity to prove his worth in battle and he even experienced a pang of guilt at the fact that in Rabaul he was not really in danger’s way.
Fuji did not mind the hard physical work which kept him fit, but as he chipped away at the rows of yams he continued to curse his Shinto ancestors. The war had begun and he had been left in a backwater.
Rabaul continued to bake lazily under a tropical sun as if there was no war but Fuji knew that would all soon change. The world would come to understand that nothing could stop the Japanese southern advance down the Asian mainland and across the Pacific waters.
Part Two
THE KELLYS’
WAR
January 1942
FOURTEEN
Z day arrived before Christmas Day in Papua.
Z day was the code name assigned to the evacuation of all European women and children from the Papua and New Guinea territories commencing the eighteenth day of December 1941. It did not include those female missionaries and nurses who chose to stay nor non-European women and children.
Paul Mann saw Karin and Angelika off on the steamship Neptuna bound for Cairns and Townsville. He owned a small property in Townsville so his family had somewhere to stay upon arrival in Australia. The sudden but not unexpected war in the Pacific had changed their lives dramatically. Jack stood beside Paul Mann, wearing the uniform of the New Guinea Volunteer Rifles. On his sleeve Jack wore the rank of sergeant. In the Great War he had risen to the commissioned rank of captain but Jack did not mind reverting back to a rank he had once held in the trenches of the Western Front, as the NGVR had had a slot for a senior NCO and Jack had taken it without hesitation. At least he was back in uniform and doing his bit with a unit raised locally to defend Papua and New Guinea. The officers and men making up the NGVR were drawn from all sections of the Island’s colonial society: government clerks, prospectors, merchants, plantation owners and managers, scientists and many more. Had many of the same men attempted to enlist in the armed forces of Australia they would probably have been rejected on the grounds of age, and so many of the officers and men had seen action twenty years earlier in the Great War. A unit of the NGVR was in Rabaul alongside a battalion sent up from Australia and Jack was to fly out of Moresby on the morrow to join his unit in Lae. He guessed it might be a long time before he, his son and his friend Paul Mann would be together in one place at the one time.
‘They are not evacuating Sen or Iris at the moment,’ Jack said bitterly, standing beside his friend and watching the ship pull out into the channel to steam away from Port Moresby. ‘But I suppose that the government in its wisdom believes it has to keep the Chinese out of Australia.’
Paul stayed on the wharf until the ship was a small dot on the horizon. Although Jack remained with his best friend he was impatient to head for the hotel as the influx of troops from Australia made it harder to get a beer at the bar.
‘I have read that the Japanese have bombed Rabaul,’ Paul said, turning to walk down the wharf for the town. ‘It won’t be long before Moresby comes under attack.’
‘Just a matter of time,’ Jack agreed. ‘Lukas is sailing for Rabaul tomorrow. The navy has given him some hush-hush charter to take some bloke there on government business.’
‘We … Lukas must be careful, my friend,’ Paul cautioned. ‘The seas are a dangerous place at the moment. And so are the skies. The Japanese have formidable aircraft.’
‘You know,’ Jack said, ‘I have never asked you your views on the Japs coming into the war on the side of your German countrymen.’
‘I could not fight my countrymen as my son does,’ Paul answered. ‘But the Japanese are a different matter. I do not know why Hitler should have even considered signing a pact with them.’
‘Like he signed a pact with Stalin in Russia and look where that went,’ Jack sneered. ‘Paper treaties don’t mean much to your Herr Hitler.’
‘He is not my Hitler,’ Paul snapped. ‘The man will destroy Germany for the sake of his personal ambitions, especially now that the Americans have come into the war.’
Jack dropped the subject. Prior to the war Paul had expressed some admiration for the man who had returned self-esteem to his people. Even the conquest of France was viewed by Paul as a natural way of subduing Germany’s historical enemy on the continent, although he had disagreed with the unjustified occupation of such neutral countries as Holland, Belgium and Norway. ‘Well, let’s just have a drink. You may as well stay aboard the Independence tonight with Lukas and myself,’ Jack said, slapping Paul on the back as they walked into town. ‘Hopefully you will get to join Karin and Angelika soon enough in Townsville.’
‘That may be some time,’ Paul replied. ‘I am going to stay here and try to help keep the Japanese out of Papua.’
Jack was taken by surprise by his friend’s statement. ‘How do you, a German, expect to be able to help?’
‘I have ways,’ Paul replied mysteriously. ‘Ways that I cannot tell even you, my friend, because I have sworn to remain silent.’
Jack glanced sideways at Paul and saw the grim expression set on his face. Whatever Paul was involved in had the smell of official secrecy and Jack did not question him any further.
Kwong Yu Sen was now transmitting information on the scheduled basis and feared that somehow he might be discovered. The presence of his sister-in-law Iris only added to his guilt of betraying the people who had come to trust him. There were times he had considered fleeing Papua rather than work for the Japanese, but now even that option was gone as the Imperial forces of the Emperor overran Asia and most of the North Pacific. No, he was trapped in Papua and with things going so well for the Japanese in the Pacific it was only a matter of time before they occupied Port Moresby. What was there to stop them? At least he had the consolation that he and his family in Singapore would be looked upon favourably by the Japanese when they came, unlike any Europeans captured by them.
When Iris had arrived alone in Port Moresby she was greeted by Sen, who was surprised to see that his sister-in-law was alone.
‘It is good to see you, Iris,’ Sen had said formally. ‘Your return is a joyous moment for all the family.’
Iris had stood with just one small suitcase by her feet on the wharf busy with the business of war: cargo ships unloading war material and troops straight from Australia sent to reinforce the Port Moresby garrison. Captain Featherstone had arranged to ship Iris and Marie to Australia but it had been Tom Sullivan who had arranged the last leg of her journey to Papua. Both mother and daughter had been his guests in Sydney – part of the service to the estate of the late Lord Spencer, Tom had explained shrugging off their gratitude when Iris tried to thank him for his generosity and hospitality. For the voyage out Marie had been surly to her mother but when she arrived in Sydney she was captivated by its sunshine and the easy-going ways of its citizens. Tom Sullivan arranged for the young woman to meet some French friends who, with open arms, took the exotic, beautiful young woman into their fold.
When Marie had approached her mother over leaving Sydney with her for the journey to Papua she had been unusually contrite explaining that she wanted to stay. Papua sounded too primitive for her liking. Iris listened to her daughter’s pleas sympathetically. In the back of her mind was the fear that her beloved Papua might come under intense Japanese attack, placing Marie in extreme danger. She agreed to Marie’s request to stay and Tom Sullivan, charmed by the young French beauty’s wiles, was kind enough to find Marie employment in one of his many booming businesses.
Despite Tom Sullivan’s insistence that Iris remain in Sydney with her daughter, Iris had a need to visit her home in Papua at lea
st for a short while. There were the ghosts of her past that required exorcism and so she bid Marie a tearful farewell, promising to return.
On the car trip back to Sen’s bungalow outside Port Moresby, Iris had soaked in the sounds, sights and smells of the country. With her eyes closed she could almost imagine that she was a young girl again, riding her horse to the nearest village to chat with the native women and on the way home stopping to pick flowers. When she opened her eyes she was aware that only the countryside had not changed much in the years she had been gone. Everything else was gone; her sister-in-law and children were now living in Singapore under threat of occupation whilst her brother-in-law appeared to have aged prematurely under the burden of being separated from his family. There was a terrible shadow over the land, she thought as she gazed at the countryside through the window of Sen’s small Ford sedan. She had instinctively sensed something less than warm in Sen’s welcome to her at the wharf. It could be just the stress of knowing that his family were in Singapore living under threat by the Japanese, she had told herself, that made him so distant. Whatever it was, Iris thought, travelling on the dirt track to Sen’s place, it was of no real consequence. All she had come home for was to see the place where she had met the man she had truly loved all her life, for the last time. She just wanted to stand on the verandah overlooking the lush tropical garden and remember the tall, almost awkward Englishman. The journey to Papua was not unlike a pilgrimage to Mecca. For Iris, it was a spiritual journey before returning to the material world of an inheritance.