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Australia

FRED'S OWN STORY

Enlisted into the RAAF

I was working as a junior motor mechanic at Silver City Motors, Broken Hill NSW when I enlisted into the Royal Australian Air Force as an Air Crew trainee, 442875 AC 2 Aircraftsman F G Sharon, course 52, No. 4 Initial Training School, Victor Harbor, South Australia on the 11th March 1944.

 My training commenced with six months of intense physical fitness exercise training, marching and rifle drills together with rifle and revolver range shooting practices. Thrown in for good measure, was the intense studying of subjects that we were required to master, Air Force law, arithmetic, trigonometry, meteorology, algebra, navigation (both for land and air), morse code (both by radio and flashing light “Aldis”), [morse code is a system where the alphabet and numbers are coded in dots and dashes], semaphore signalling [a system where numbers and the alphabet are coded by a person holding two flags and placing his arms in different positions] also aircraft and ship recognition, of all nations, by air and from ground level. There were a few other subjects, but at the moment I cannot recall what they were, but I do remember that our hours of study began about 8.00 am and at times went through to 10.00pm seven days a week.

 During the whole six months at I.T.S. I think we were only granted about four weekends of leave. Still no one complained much as all we wished to complete our studies and progress to the next stage of our training. There were thirty one personnel in our course, about eight of whom I went to Norwood Primary and Norwood Technical High Schools with. Stands to reason I guess as we were all within weeks of being the same age.

 In the World War Two era radio and other sophisticated means of communication that are available today were only fanciful and imaginative dreams then. Morse code was the universal means of contact during that period of time so to pass our test we had to competently send and receive a minimum of thirty words a minute. To help us to achieve this standard we used to talk to each other in morse code by using “dit” for dot and” dah” for dash, thus in morse code “F’ is dot dot dash dot so we would use “dit dit dah dit”. We became quite adept at “talking” this way to each other and finally had no trouble passing our tests.

 Having managed to pass all exams I was classified as P.N.B.W. (Pilot, Navigator, Bombardier, Wireless operator) and posted to an Elementary Flying Training School and was issued with a full flying kit. By now the allies were gaining the upper hand in most of the operational theatres of combat thus causing our training schedule to be slowed down or revised to the extent that we were going to being sent out to local orchards to help with fruit picking. As an alternative we were offered a trip to Canada under the Empire Training Scheme to be trained as Wireless Air Gunners (WAG’s). Reluctantly I volunteered to accept this offer, but we had to be fully medically and dentally fit. When I was fourteen years of age the dentist broke one my double teeth off to the gum. He unsuccessfully tried levering the tooth out at the time so the gum eventually grew over the remains of the tooth so being dentally fit was a real concern for me.

 Depending upon how one views it, luckily one of my mates was called to the dentist before me and returned some time later holding a towel to his mouth from which he was bleeding profusely. The poor bugger had had all of his teeth ripped out and was not a very happy chappie. WAG’s did not have a record of life longevity so we viewed it as though it didn’t matter if you had teeth or not in that posting. (Probably we were well wide of the mark with that line of thought because this is the only case of hasty treatment that I have witnessed or heard of.)

 As a result of this hasty treatment I immediately visited the officer in charge and withdrew my name from the trip to Canada and asked to be transferred to ground staff, as I did not volunteer to go fruit picking or such. By now I had teamed up with Norm Edwards and Eric Stead and we became very good mates. Together the three of us transferred to ground staff as plant operators, because it was the highest paying group 5. Ground staff consisted of five separate pay groups 1 to 5. The plant operating skills gained by me while working to build dams in outback N.S.W. with my Uncle George helped make the decision and I was able to convince Norm and Eric to join me, as I would teach them.

  My two mates, twenty-four years old Norman Leslie Edwards who, with his wife, owned a wine saloon in a Melbourne suburb had driven cars but never a truck and thirty years old Eric Stead an ex office worker from Sydney, had never driven a motor vehicle of any description.

 In late August 1944 the three of us were transferred to 4PD, an Air Force temporary posting depot at Springbank, South Australia, an area now occupied by the Daw's Road High School, opposite the Daw’s Road Repatriation Hospital. Here we were classified as Group 1 airmen so I immediately requested to be upgraded to Group 3 as a DMT (Driver Motor Transport) and had no trouble passing the required tests. Becoming a transport driver required passing not only a driving test but also skills at basic mechanical repairs needed to be proved. We all had to be classified as DMT’s to enable us to be transferred to a “Works Training Unit” to be taught how to operate earth moving equipment to RAAF standards. As 4PD was a transition camp life here was relatively easy, by service standards, so I had no trouble obtaining a truck whenever needed to teach Norm to pass his DMT test. Norm had no problems passing his tests so we put our combined efforts into helping Eric as he possessed no expertise whatsoever along these lines. Thankfully our combined help paid off as Eric passed on his second attempt.

 Rules at 4PD were relatively lax as the majority of the personnel stationed there were waiting for posting to other units. Three or four mornings a week we would dress in our uniforms then put our work overalls on over the uniform. Then at the morning compulsory parade we would line up with the hygiene squad or such and when dismissed we would slip into the nearby YMCA hut, remove our overalls, hide them and then wander over to the Colonel Light Gardens tram terminus and catch a tram into the city. We only left in twos or threes and were never challenged for a leave pass. Public transport was free to service personnel in uniform, and when we arrived in the city we would head for the then Savoy newsreel theatrette, where we knew most of the usherettes, who saved seats for service personnel at no charge. We quite often used this as a meeting place if we had to leave the camp at different times.

 On the 26th October 1944 the three of us, now classified as DMTs, were posted to the Works Training Unit at Lara, (a dust bowl then just out from Werribee) in Victoria. Training consisted of being taught the skills to operate bulldozers (large and small), carryall scoops, large road graders and power shovels. I learnt a lot during this course and at the same time was allowed to help Eric and Norm on the ‘dozers and carryalls. A lot of our training was spent clearing a pathway and constructing a highway road from Melbourne to Geelong. I can only guess, but it seems logical to assume that most of the original Geelong to Melbourne highway was constructed by RAAF plant operator trainees from this Lara camp. Werribee in those days was only a small township close to a railway siding. Geelong, being a very hospitable city, was the place we mostly chose to spend our weekend leave when it was granted to us. Norm of course chose Melbourne each time enabling him to spend time with his family and friends.

 The three of us successfully passed this course so we all were reclassified as Group 5 plant operators which brought our pay from nine shillings (90cents) to twelve shillings and six pence ($1.25) a day. On the 5th January 1945 the three of us were posted to 1 Airfield Construction Corps (1ACS) in Sydney but firstly we were allowed to go home for a couple of weeks pre-embarkation leave. When we finally arrived in Sydney we were camped in the grandstand, on straw palliasses, at the Randwick racecourse. We used to lie in “bed” and watch the silly buggers, jockeys and trainers doing track work about 4 o’clock in the morning.

 We were all familiarised with an area on the Randwick race course that was allotted as our parade ground. We had to be on parade at 8 o’clock each morning. The first few days were spent moving RAAF plant and equipment from Moore Park to Bankstown. Once this exercise was completed we were allowed free time to spend as we wished as long as we were back on parade at 8am the following morning.  We were well all aware that a ship was coming to take us to an unknown destination so the 8am parade became very significant. The free time allowed Eric and other Sydneyites to spend their nights at home. The remainder of us spent a lot of time climbing over the Sydney Harbour bridge, going for public transport rides, many hours at Luna Park on the big dipper and other rides and exploring King’s Cross.

 Overseas

This went on for about a week until the day came that we had to remain at the barracks. That night, in supposedly great secrecy, buses picked us up and took us took the docks where we boarded the US Navy ship “SS Carlos Carillo” an old Liberty cargo ship that had been converted into a troopship. The next morning at daylight we began pulling out and it seemed as though half the population of Sydney were there to wave us goodbye. Because no one was allowed off base from 8am the previous morning it was obvious to the locals that a move was on.

 As soon as we were out to sea we were instructed in various drills that had to be followed in case of air or sea attack. I was issued with a large “Bowie” type knife and was stationed by one of the life rafts and if the order was ever given to abandon ship my job was to sever the anchor rope and allow the raft to slide into the sea. I was expected to ride the raft into the water but have my doubts that I would have risked it. I never had to do it so I’ll never know whether I would have chanced the ride or not. Air attack meant that everyone (except crew) had to be below deck and with sea attack everyone above deck. Attack drills occurred quite regularly and when the sea alert was sounded and while we were on deck the crew would go through our gear and help themselves to whatever took their fancy. We all lost something, some more than others, but mostly it was only trivial stuff. We complained to our officers who passed our complaints on to the Captain but as nothing could be proved no action was taken. A day or so after going to sea each of us plant operators were issued with a Thompson sub machine gun because the Lee Enfield 303 rifle was deemed to be too cumbersome to carry or use whilst operating earth moving equipment. We were issued with orders to make sure that we kept our weapons with us at all times because a couple of our members had had their weapons stolen after one of the air attack drills.

 We also only received two meals a day, no midday meal for the whole trip. Soon after boarding the ship we were issued with a meal card that had three meals marked on it. To receive a meal, this card (issued by the Yanks) had to be presented and the appropriate square punched to obtain our meal, to prevent anyone from doubling up for meals. It was compulsory for all Australian personnel in the tropics to take anti malaria tablets, so the midday meal section on the card was clicked when the person involved took his tablet. We only had fresh water for drinking so for showering, shaving or washing our clothing, salt water was to be used. Special “Seagull” brand salt-water soap was supplied for us to use. Our hair was hard and like strands of rope because of the salt water. We just had to put up with it as there was nothing at all that we could do about it.

 Sleeping facilities were rather primitive as our bunks were very narrow and spaced so close together that it was impossible to sit up in bed. Our unit consisted of approximately 300 personnel, give or take a few, so there should have been much more space available to us.

 Morotai

The journey from Australia to Morotai took eighteen days and as the deck space available to us was very limited physical activity was minimal giving us plenty of time to fill in. Quite often a group of six of us played Monopoly for hours at a time while others played cards and other games that had been distributed to us by one of the comfort funds. We also spent considerable lengths of time watching dolphins (those days dolphins were referred to porpoises) swimming and playing alongside while keeping up with the ship. The abundant numbers of flying fish were also a fascination.

 Apart from a couple of fair dinkum alarms, one sub and one air attack, the journey was trouble free. Naturally through the course of the trip we were kept up to date with events that were occurring in the various theatres of activity and we were also told of what our duties would be when we landed and what was expected of us. Our arrival at Morotai was a very quiet and mundane affair as the yanks greeted us, just as a matter of fact, escorted us to our proposed campsite and just left us to it. They did however invite us to have our meals with them until our camp was established. For this we were extremely grateful as our camp site was only a patch of semi cleared jungle that had to be fully cleared before any equipment for cooking etc, could be set up.

 I must say that the yanks lived on the best of tucker and beverages. The Americans only had control of Morotai for approximately one month when we arrived and we were all very surprised to see that they had already constructed a full size ice making factory and had it in full production. We remained guests at their meal times until our campsite had been established enough for us to be independent. They wanted for nothing as there were generally two menus to select from, mainly fresh chicken or ham with fresh fruit and fruit juices to choose from for sweets and drinks.

 Talk about living high but we enjoyed the luxury of dining with the American troops and what a luxury it was after the rubbish we had to tolerate on the floating rust bucket. But once our cookhouse was established, it was dehydrated potatoes, eggs and bully beef with dog biscuits and a replacement for butter which was known as tropical spread which looked and tasted like engine oil. Yuk!!!!!!  (Working amongst engines and mechanical gear I have accidentally tasted engine oil, so believe me it’s not a good taste)

 As our unit consisted of only about three hundred personnel only a relatively small area was needed for our camp site so it did not take long to clear the area and set it up to our satisfaction. There was a company of Afro American Army personnel based on a section situated along side our camp site with whom we became very friendly. They were a happy and cheerful group and occasionally they invited a few of us to have a meal with them in their mess.

 When the white American officers heard of this they placed the Negro areas out of bounds to all Australian service personnel, plus that all Afro Americans were not allowed to fraternise with us. Racial discrimination in the American forces at that time was rife. One instance was where white American troops had guarded a road junction twenty four hours a day, when one night the Japanese forces infiltrated and killed the guards; from that time on Afro American guards were placed on duty at that and other road junctions.

 Once our camp had been established we were kept busy unloading transport ships for both the Australian and American forces. When unloading American supplies we would organise two slings in the holds (one for us and one for them) and somehow goodies would accidentally be placed into our sling and then when one of our drivers arrived for a load we would load “our” sling onto his truck where it would be unloaded at our camp. We even managed to filch a couple of refrigerators from the yanks. This caused a bit of a stir but our Commanding Officer was able to smooth things over. All ranks including non-commissioned and commissioned officers all benefited from our indiscretions as we were a rather close unit.

 We also had the task of clearing and establishing camp areas for our 2/48th  Battalion  9th Division AIF army mates who were to arrive on Morotai well after us. Apart from clearing the land, which was no small job, tent posts, ridge poles etc. had to be created somehow from small trees. One time when I was looking for nice straight trees I spotted this tree about six metres tall and only about fifteen to twenty centimetres thick. Thinking, that if I felled this tree I might be able to split it in size suitable for ridge poles, so I hit it with the axe which buried itself almost full depth into the tree. I felled the tree, trimmed the side branches, to discover that the trimmed stem was extremely light in weight. It was a balsa wood tree, the wood used to make model aeroplanes etc. I marched back to camp with this six metre log over my shoulder and my axe in the other, much to the amazement of my mates, until they found out what the timber was.

 Although there was still quite a bit of activity on the island, open air picture shows were on most nights showing the latest Hollywood movies. Occasionally we were interrupted by Japanese aircraft and as most of the shows were close to the beach the safest thing to do was to jump into the water. Once they had gone it was back to the pictures, where we would dry out while watching the remainder of the show.

 We spent quite a lot of our time swimming; some of the beaches were still picture post card perfect, diving for Kauri shells and generally mucking around in the nice warm water. It is not known whether my water activities contributed to the problem or not but I contracted an ear infection known as “Singapore ear”, a dermatitis like condition to the ear drum. This is a painful complaint so for treatment I needed to be hospitalised in the Australian Army Hospital, on Morotai, for a few days. Shortly after I was discharged from the RAAF in 1946 it was recognised that the problem would be with me for life so I was granted a small disability pension and now sixty-five years later I still need occasional treatment for this complaint.

 April 1945 was a busy time for us loading equipment, supplies etc. on to LST’s (Landing Ships Tanks) ready for a landing on Tarakan Island which is just off the eastern coast of Borneo Island. I cannot remember what the date was but later that month we boarded our LSTs and sailed in convoy with another Airfield Construction Squadron, 8ACS and the Ninth Division A.I.F. boys which included the 2/48th. Battalion. On the voyage over, we were all fully briefed of the expected conditions that would confront us when and after we landed plus what was expected of us.

 Tarakan

During the night of April 30th 1945, we arrived off the coast of Tarakan and just before dawn the naval ships began shelling shore installations and then at dawn the bomber aircraft joined in. What a racket this all created and then when daylight came the army boys could be seen climbing down the rope ladders attached to the sides of the transport ships to board their landing craft. To be part of this was the proudest moment of my life as an Australian serviceman. Speaking with mates after it was all over we discovered that we all had very similar feelings and the possibilities of any adverse consequences were the last things on our minds.

 Getting our equipment ashore presented many problems, as the beaches were just muddy quagmires. Conditions on the island were grossly underestimated and presented a lot of unexpected obstacles. It was anticipated that the troops would have control of the airstrip in approximately six hours after the landing but the hurdles were much larger than anticipated, to the extent that the six hours prolonged to ten days. The time estimated for us to take total control of Tarakan Island was three weeks but in actual fact it was more than two months before effective control was achieved.

When at last control of the airfield was established, Norm, Eric and I were chosen to be the first RAAF personnel set to work to clear a strip large enough to allow the Army Auster spotter plane to be able to operate. While driving our respective units to the strip we drove through a section of the road where a badly damaged army “Matilda” tank lay on the side of the road and on either side of the road were these large round objects and what appeared to be large 200 litre steel drums. We drove through this section at our normal travelling speed, flat out, of about six to eight kilometres an hour only to find out later that the objects that we drove through were Japanese sea mines and depth charges, which were used for attacking submarines. The Japs had buried these and other explosives to be used as land mines to prevent the allies advance. The men who located, dug these explosive devices up and deloused them deserved every accolade that could be bestowed upon them. The Matilda tank had run over one, hence the severe damage and we three operators almost needed a change of underpants when told what we had just driven through.

 Sadly, a spotter plane had earlier attempted to take off from a small stretch of beach but crashed killing the pilot, an Army Major, so further attempts were forbidden. Fortunately a suitable area on the battered air strip, which could be quickly repaired, was located enabling us to have the spotter plane in the air well within the time allocated. The reason the three of us were chosen was that Eric had become an extremely capable grader operator, Norm operated a carryall very well and I had no problems operating a bulldozer.

 Although we were able to establish a makeshift runway in quick time, completing the main runway was a very different proposition. The strip had been heavily bombed, prior to our landing, resulting in many large craters being created. The island of Tarakan was a Dutch territory and very rich in oil. The soil was extremely muddy and seemed to be saturated with oil, which meant that it never seemed to dry out. There was a shortage of gravel material that could be used for filling so heavy timber etc. was used to fill bomb craters. After a short period of time, all of this makeshift filling would float to the surface creating huge difficulties. We were forced to locate, and establish, makeshift gravel pits ourselves. Unfortunately this was time consuming, but at least effective. Another hurdle we had to contend with was that the Japanese had cannon or cannons located on the opposite side of a hill, at the top end of the strip, and randomly shelled the strip. This caused some confusion until we realised that because they had to fire over the hill the shells only landed from about halfway along the strip to the far end.

 One evening, I was detailed to tow a bogged Army truck from a bomb crater. As I was reversing the ‘dozer to enable the truck driver to connect the tow chain to his truck these “things” began whizzing past my head. Being silhouetted by the bright moonlight night provided the Jap with a very good shooting target. The army driver immediately realised what was happening and told me get off the ‘dozer. I immediately threw the ‘dozer into neutral gear and dived onto the ground, which unfortunately for me was covered with old Japanese barbed wire causing me to suffer several cuts and scratches to my wrists and arms. I carefully boarded the ‘dozer, and keeping out of sight the best that I could, and pulled the truck clear of the bog. The army mate went on his way and I returned to the strip, by now I was covered in blood from the lacerations enough to warrant being taken to the field casualty station. The main concern was the possible infection from the tar like substance that the Japanese covered their barbed wire with.

 My cuts and scratches were dressed but I was required to stay overnight to allow the injections that they gave me to take effect. I felt completely out of place here because of the injuries that some of the inmates were suffering. In those days medications were not anywhere near as sophisticated as they are nowadays. Penicillin was in its infancy and one instance that remains vividly in my mind was when one chap was given his penicillin injection. He was laying face down on his bunk when the orderly gave him his injection. Firstly the needle, which appeared to be about the size and length of a common match, attached to a base of about 30 millimetres in diameter and this was jammed into the chap’s buttock. Then the syringe, which contained a milky looking fluid, was fitted to the base that was protruding from the man’s buttock allowing the milky looking fluid to be injected. I still have a few scars, from the lacerations that I received, but I sure was glad to be discharged from that casualty station and I still have feelings for many of the unfortunates who were being treated there.

  Once that we had the air strip surface in a reasonable condition, steel matting (Marsden matting) was laid but after a few air craft landings and take offs the matting curled up at the sides. One idea to overcome this problem was to gather some of the larger diameter oil well bore casings, weld them to the matting and then fill the casings with cement. Sounded like a fairly logical move so off we went to where we knew a quantity of such casings were stacked and began loading them onto our trucks when out of nowhere a group of Dutch soldiers appeared with rifles pointed at us.

 The officer accompanying us had words with the Dutch officials and they were adamant that we could not have these casings. Our officer told us to take it easy and to wait while he spoke to higher authority. He soon returned accompanied by General Morsehead, who happened to be visiting Tarakan, and other officers both Army and Air Force. The result of their discussions with the Dutch officials was that the Dutch disappeared and we loaded our trucks without further hindrance. We had no idea where these Dutch came from but I have since learned that some did arrive not long after we Australians landed. The casings welded to the matting proved effective but for how long I have no idea.

 A necessity, the latrine consisted of a trench dug not far from the side of the strip and surrounded by a strip of hession material to supply the user with a little bit of privacy and the seat was long piece of timber supported by a couple of props. One poor bugger was using this facility, and enjoying the relief, when the nips decided it was shelling time and sent a shell clean through the hession while on its journey down the strip. Our dress code at all times then was shirt, long trousers with boots and gaiters so what a sight it was to see this poor bugger clutching his trousers and trying to pull them up from around his knees whilst at the same time trying to make a beeline to the safe section of the strip. We did have our comical moments up there even if it was at some other person’s expense.

 The hot and humid tropical conditions caused a lot of sweating on our backsides as all of our operating work was done sitting down resulting in most of us drivers / operators contracted tropical ulcers on our buttocks. These ulcers healed from the centre and spread outwards to become rather uncomfortable and needed treatment. Personnel suffering this problem lined up each day, before the commencement of their shift, at the medical tent and then with trousers dropped, bend over in unison, for one orderly to come along and remove the scabs so that the next orderly could paint the affected area with purple liquid we referred to as “Gentian Violet”. Treatment completed, we then gingerly made our way to our respective work places. Amazingly this treatment gave relief and eventually cured the ulcers. It must have been a right royal sight for anyone watching this ceremonial ulcer treatment.

 We did have our anxious moments too. A group of us were camped in an old factory building, pretty well knocked around but it still with a roof still attached, security was limited which meant that if any incidents developed we had to defend ourselves. To assist the guards pre-arranged defence areas were organised for us. One night in particular, about three o’clock in the morning, after completing a particularly long stint at the strip (we did have long shifts occasionally but we often changed units with each other i.e. if I was operating a ‘dozer I could swap with a truck driver and so on and this made the long days quite tolerable) we were alerted to a possible incident outside.

 To assist our security we placed a couple of pebbles into empty tins with holes punched in the top to enable us to thread the tins onto lengths of string. We then pushed rows of small sticks into the ground and strung the tins about 15 to 20 centimetres above the ground. The Japanese were adept at infiltrating defences by sneaking along on their stomachs to approach their targets so hopefully the tins we laid out would rattle and warn us of any attempt to approach our quarters. This particular early morning the guards heard the tins rattle so they alerted us so we quickly and quietly made our way to our allocated positions.

 Once we had positioned ourselves we could hear the noises spasmodically being made in different directions so all we could do was to remain very still and wait, until virtually we could see the whites of their eyes, as any movement or shots would give our positions away possibly making us easy targets. So, with great difficulty, we waited and waited until daylight broke to find two small dogs were having a romp around amongst our warning tins. A very relieved group of airmen, at last, were able to go to bed. We did have other false alarms but nothing compared to the dog episode.

 The army spotter plane was an un-armed high winged “Auster” single engine aircraft used for checking the movements and locations of Japanese troops as well as our own. When the Japs realised that the Auster was unarmed they began firing their rifles and other weapons at it whenever they had the chance. The pilot had enough of being used for target practice so he came up with the idea of taking a few empty beer bottles up with him. When the Japs started taking pot shots at him he tossed out these bottles. For the first two or three times this worked well with them scattering, possibly thinking that they were being bombed, then when reality set in they began shooting at him again. Using his ingenuity the pilot discovered that if he cut off the necks of the bottles a hand grenade would fit neatly into the modified bottle. His first trip using his new weapons was extremely effective dispersing the enemy with quick abandon, (possibly with casualties). This effectively put an end to his plane being used for target practice.

 The day air the strip was declared fit, for fighter planes and light bombers, to use was quite an eventful one. The flight distance from Moratai to Tarakan was in their upper limits in good flying conditions, even when fitted with extra fuel tanks, or as they were commonly known in those days, as “Belly Tanks”. These tanks were jettisoned when emptied. As it turned out, the weather on this day was extremely rough with head winds, storms etc. By the time the aircraft had reached the Tarakan landing strip most of them had very little or no fuel left at all. The result was chaotic with some of the aircraft trying to land immediately upon arrival and others endeavouring to circle the strip before landing running out of fuel before completing the circuit. A number of the aircraft crash landed on the airstrip itself and some crashed on the surrounding countryside. Quite a few of the aircraft were damaged beyond repair and a few pilots and “Beaufighter” aircraft crew members were injured. The “Beaufighter” was a twin engine light bomber aircraft that carried a crew of three but some of these arriving planes had four personnel on board for some reason or other. This day was meant to be quite an enjoyable occasion but turned out to be anything but. It is a day that remains vividly in my mind, even after sixty odd years.

 My mother’s brother, Gordon Alder, was a member of the 7th division AIF who had landed at Balikpapan, and had managed to keep in contact with me throughout our Borneo campaigns. He suggested that me being a RAAF member I could possibly organise a flight to Balikpapan to visit him. I spoke to my Commanding Officer, Squadron Leader Keys who gave me the o.k. to organise the trip. An Australian Liberator bomber aircraft was heading to Balikpapan and was willing to take me. When I spoke to my C.O. about the arrangements he warned me that he could not give me official permission to make the trip and that if anything happened that I could not make it back to Tarakan within a reasonable time I could be classed as a deserter for which the consequences would be severe. Knowing what the penalties for desertion were I decided that the risk was too great and stayed on Tarakan.

 To cater for the larger allied aircraft we also had to extend the strip by about three hundred metres through swamp. Upon completion of the extension aircraft pilots noted that landing and taking off for their planes was at times easier than some other times. As a result of these comments a survey was done over the length of the strip which established that the section of the strip that was extended through the swampland rose and fell approximately one metre with the tides.

 From this time on we went about our duties, extending the strip to facilitate larger aircraft and general maintenance procedures. Because of time factor involved overcoming the difficulties encounted on Tarakan by both the Army and the ACS’s the urgency for the acquisition of the air strip to help with the support for the invasions of Labuan and Balikpapan had dissipated. As a result life now had become fairly mundane; we had a beer ration of two bottles each per week as well as the Australian Military Forces daily newspaper the “Tarakan edition of the Table Tops”. I still have a copy of the “Sunset Edition” issued on Thursday 16th August 1945 with the headlines “Japan Accepts Allies Terms”. However about 10 PM, the night of the 14th August we were rudely awakened by the sounds of sirens, anti aircraft and naval gunfire and many other commotions. We had no idea what was happening, an invasion or such !!, so we all leapt out of bed and grabbed our weapons and stood around like stunned mullets waiting for something to happen. Shortly after, an announcement was made over our public address system that Japan had accepted surrender terms. Our bewilderment turned to joy, and then the celebrations began, as within a very short period of time bottles of beer appeared, seemingly from nowhere.

 I have just stated that we each received two bottles of beer per week which were consumed, or sold, within a reasonably short period of time after obtaining them. The canteen did not open on the night of the 14th so it remains a mystery as to where all the beer came from, but it was there – believe me. The next morning disappointment set in as it was revealed that last night’s announcement was false. However the next day we were all elated when it officially announced that hostilities had ceased. From that time on all the talk was about going home.

 About a month before the war ended, Eric was flown home as his wife, who was in the WAAAF, (Women’s Australian Auxiliary Air Force) had become seriously ill. Not long after Norm and I received a couple of letters from Eric stating that his wife was still very ill. Sadly we have never met up with or had written contact with Eric again so we have no idea how Eric’s wife fared.

 Norm and I were approached with offers to join the occupation force in Japan. When told that we had to sign on for further two years without the opportunity of obtaining home leave first, we declined their offer. That would not have been too bad for me but for Norm it was not an option. By now Norm and I had formed a great mateship so we did things together. We both would have accepted if we had been offered a trip home, if only for a short time, before going to Japan. We later received word from some of the boys from our squadron, who had accepted the offer, to join the occupation forces in Japan, that they had been flown directly home, for a short period of time, issued with new uniforms etc. before being flown to Japan.

 As it turned out we may as well have taken up the offer to join the occupation force in Japan because it was in mid December, four months after the war ended, before Norm, myself and the remainder of our unit boarded the HMS Kanimbla and sailed from Tarakan Island. We had been held back on Tarakan to enable maintenance on the air strip and roads to be continued until the Dutch could take over. Our one ambition then was to be home with our families for Christmas.

 The general feeling towards the Japs in those days was one of hate and loathing (with good reason). However, over the passage of time, these feelings have somewhat mellowed so missing out on a trip to the land of the Rising Sun at that time did not and still does not bother me. After we had landed on Tarakan and came into contact with the local native population we found that many of them had been shot through the instep of their foot or through the heel. The Japs had rounded up as many of the natives and shot them in the foot to prevent them from being able to work for the allies. Some of their wounds were horrific and took a long time to heal. I might add, that as soon as the majority of these natives were able, they willingly and voluntarily became a valuable work force for us during the reconstruction of the airstrip.

 Home for Christmas

The “Kanimbla” was an ex Australian passenger ship converted into a troop carrier. The trip home was quite a lengthy one as it called into Moratai Island for a day or so while more of our service mates boarded and then again into Madang, New Guinea where more troops boarded. The Australian Navy crew treated us all extremely well, like kings really. The tucker was first class and there was plenty of entertainment as well. No comparison, to the Yankee “Hell Ship” that we sailed up on. We eventually arrived in Sydney about 8 am on Sunday 23rd December 1945 and disembarked shortly after. On our way into port we were alerted to customs rules and regulations etc. as to what we could and could not bring in. Many of us had “souvenirs” that were not allowed in. Quite a number from our unit had acquired American issue .45 calibre Colt revolvers, as they took the same ammunition as our issued Thomson sub machine guns. These revolvers were not allowed in and neither was the Japanese rifle that I had acquired. Not wanting any delays with our attempts to get home by Christmas Day we ditched these weapons together with many other illegal items overboard. It would be anyone’s guess as to how many “souvenirs” are at the bottom of Sydney Harbour.

 We all disembarked, amid much pomp and ceremony and cheering crowds of people, who were lined along the route, welcoming us home as we marched through the streets of Sydney. This was greatly appreciated by all of us but we still wanted to be home for Christmas Day. We must have been a fairly ragged lot, Army, Navy and Air Force as the only clothing we had to wear was boots and gaiters, shorts and shirts with slouch hats that we had been wearing whilst on duty. I can tell you that some of it was pretty tattered but at least clean. We had fresh water to use for all requirements whilst we were on the “Kanimbla”

 After the march, we were all transported to our respective camps to receive our leave passes and travel warrants. As soon as we had received the necessary paperwork, we all made a bee line for our respective travel points for our journey home. It was at this point that Norm and I shook hands and with a parting wave said “see’ya mate”.  It was January 1972 when I was in Melbourne before Norm and I met each other again.

 I made for the railway station to catch the train to Broken Hill to find sixteen other boys who had only disembarked that morning. The only money any of us had was Dutch currency so this was useless for us when we wished to buy anything. The war had been over for four months and civvy life was pretty much back to normal, so when we wanted to get on the train our paperwork meant nothing to the rail staff and they would not even let us on to the platform. No matter how hard we pleaded and explained our situation it did not mean a thing to them.

 As a last resort, the seventeen of us banded together, (a mixture of the three services) and commandeered one of their large luggage trolleys, loaded our sausage bags etc on to this trolley, opened the double gates and onto the platform we went. The platform guard was very officious and went to get the police to eject us from the carriage, which we had managed to enter through an open window. The actual train guard was sympathetic to our situation and signalled the driver to start moving the train just as the platform guard, with a couple of police, started running down the platform yelling for the train to stop. We waved him goodbye as the train gathered speed. The guard who let us stay on the train wished us all a Merry Christmas before carrying out his duties of being the train guard. From there on we were treated like royalty, the passengers giving us drinks, including a beer or two, and food. By the time we arrived at Parkes, where we had to change trains to travel to Broken Hill, there was only about five of us left as the majority of the group left the train at stops before Parkes. On this train at Parkes the second class carriages were full so the few us left boarded the first class carriage. A very young train guard tried to make us leave the carriage but relented when we promised to join the second class as soon as room became available further along the line. Without any further hiccups we arrived at the railway station in Crystal Street, Broken Hill about 7pm on the 24th December 1945 where my eldest sister Phyllis was waiting to greet me. I had made it home for Christmas.

 After going home to meet Mum, my younger sister, Pat and uncle Gordon and then after having good a meal, Phyllis, Gordon and I headed for the Broken Hill “Palais De Dance” to meet my other sister Eileen, my two mates Eddie Burgess and Bob Parker (they had been discharged from the RAAF some months before). Gordon suggested that the quickest way to meet my other friends was to walk into the centre of the dance floor during a dance break, which I did and the result was amazing, friends came from all directions which helped to cap off a terrific homecoming.

 At this time I gained extended leave for family reasons. From the time that we arrived in Sydney to the time my extended leave ended I had been transferred to other units but it was all paper work until my discharge was officially granted on the seventh March 1946.