Chapter 9 Jungle-Oblique-Toc; Sentinel on the Ridge; Defence of Milne Bay.....

JUNGLE - 0BLIQUE - T0C

In the jungle drum talk is understood by all. There IS nothing mysterious and inexplicable about it; neither does it savor of black magic, the occult, or the supernatural. The theory and even the practice of the "bush telegraph" is simple. With a little application and considerable practice, even a white man, if he be sufficiently familiar with the "group language" of his particular region in Africa, can understand and master it.

Briefly, the tribes making up the Bantu group, for instance, all speak a language consisting not only of sounds but, like the Chinese, dialects of tones and stresses. It was by following these tones and stresses with the drum that the natives in the course of centuries evolved and perfected a language which they speak to one another across miles of veldt.

The most common calls are the announcement of visitors coming, preparations for a large-scale hunt and an invitation to all within hearing to participate; a beer-drink' or celebration, or perhaps a full-moon night (lance; a birth or death; the news of some important occurrence; or just plain gossip from kraal to kraal by some bored warrior. Then there is the terrible "lombo", the rousing war call, now rarely heard. "'Munti ! Muslegas ! Men ! Warriors! Bring out your spears and guns ! Bring your bows and poison arrows ! The chief calls you!" As that grim message roars its way through the bush, (day or night, all men within hearing drop whatever they are doing and hasten away. The hi-inter leaves his traps and snares, the fisherman his nets, the husbandman his crops. All seize their weapons and answer the call of the drums.

As for speed, a telegraph would ordinarily be little faster. An urgent message was sent on one occasion well over three hundred miles between sunrise and sunset.

Among the Luban tribes a group of women at their fires are not allowed to speak while preparing food for their husbands or guests lest they inadvertently pronounce a curse which might fall upon the food. Therefore, as a substitute for speech, they have perfected a method of conversing by whistles, so varying the Luban type of tones and stresses that they do quite as well as with actual words. The men also talk frequently over long distances with whistles.

These instruments are three-toned, frequently of ivory and often as big as five feet long. Naturally, the tones have a much shorter range than drums. Where great urgency is required over long distances, they often signal with a series of five fires upon an elevation. These they blanket or
obscure according to a previously arranged method, thus sending the message as far as men can see.

A traveller records that one evening after sunset a drum in another village a few miles up the river Started pounding faintly the thrice-repeated "trunk line" signal used from village to village where the distance is not too great for audibility: "Ivewama nkusa pwile mwanda. Listen that I may tell you something." A famous old hunter named Malingi went to where the great village drum hung under the council tree and hammered out an acknowledgment to the distant signalman.

The other drum then began throbbing. Presently, the grave faces of the village elders began to light up; their teeth showed white in the firelight. Suddenly they all burst out laughing and old Malingi, already half drunk on native beer tumbled from his wooden stool and rolled on the ground, howling with laughter at a choice morsel of scandalous gossip retailed across the African night.

"Smoking room" stories are apparently not uncommon in these broadcasts.

Sentinel On The Ridge

It was hot in the kunai grass. Every green blade flung back the shimmering sunlight, while the brown, husked undergrowth crackled dryly as some living thing scurried frightenedly away. And every maddening, droning insect seemed to have concentrated in that kunai patch in an unholy alliance against the comfort and the endurance of the man who crouched there.

For twenty-three days this had been his dwelling place, this man in green. For twenty-three days he had watched the sun come up over the cloud-wreathed peaks on his right, had watched its traverse through a vaporous copper dome, had seen its final gilded rays slant over the green waters of the bay below. Twenty-three days of waiting . . . of waiting ... and watching. Even now his bloodshot eyes were turned down on the once pleasant bungalows, the feather-plumed groves of the little settlement, sweltering under the torpor of noontide. The straining eyes dropped, the matted canes sagged wearily together. The watcher sank back in his hideout with a sigh.

Where were the planters, he wondered vaguely. And the planters' wives who had once driven leisurely under the shady avenues, or loitered to exchange neighborly chat under the fluttering hibiscus? Where were the men who had labored in the drying yards, where nothing but a few stinking husks remained to show that it was once a flourishing copra centre? The owners of the ruined bungalows and their retainers, the white foremen and the black retinue - where were they? Bones bleaching along the jungle edge ... unmarked graves tinder the broken rubble of their homes. The watcher sighed again.

The insects' drone was less insistent; the shadows stole gently down from the jungle wall. There was someone talking in the in a grass patch, which rounded the hospitable summit of the rock escarpment like an emerald crown. It was not an indistinct muttering. The words were mouthed with a peculiar deliberation Thirteen, yes, thirteen of them," insisted the speaker.

"Been loading nearly all day reckon they'll pull out tonight, somewhere about midnight ... no, it's awkward to tell from this distance just what the stuff is . . . ammo mainly, I'd say, certainly a couple of light field pieces . . . and the usual ration supplies, I suppose; the fuss seems to have died down now. . . . Call you later. . . .

Was it imagination, wondered First-class Private Sumi Yamido, as he toiled up the seemingly meaningless meander that led through the kunai grass? Could it have been a voice lie had heard? Foolishness, he assured himself. Sumi Yamido was carefree and lighthearted this hazy afternoon, and hummed monotonously as he walked a snatch of a Japanese love song, strangely high-pitched, rhythmic. One could get such a fine view of the coastline from this crow's nest; the mysterious cloud-mantled mountains piled up round the bay, their feet lapped in the sparkling green water....

He was smart, too, giving that yelling, bullying platoon sergeant the slip; let the others heave and pull and sweat loading the barges-not him, not Yamido ! He was too clever for that. He squatted down on an outcropping rock, a satisfied smile' on his bland features. He'd not done so badly in this cursed country, had First-class Private Sumi Yamido, and everything had been so easy, too - almost too easy.

He turned over a child's bracelet-in his palm silver stamped with the head of their white barbarian king; the afternoon sun glinted on the monogram inscribed on the gold cigarette case he produced from his shabby uniform.

But the sun was still hot, and the afternoon was drowsy, and the peasant mind of Sumi Yamido drifted lazily from his loot to his own land. The cherries would be blossoming soon, hanging like fragile puffs of delicious pink, and the festival of ...

What was that? It wasn't imagination this time; there was something stirring ill the tall grass behind him. A dog no doubt. Plenty of dogs had fled yelping from the settlement at the first roar of the guns; a pig perhaps, yes that was more probable a wild pig! He would like to shoot a pig. Sumi allowed his tongue to lick his lips ever so slightly as he cocked his long barreled Meji rifle in anticipation. But nothing stirred. He waited motionless. Still nothing, and Yamido cautiously entered the Lowering kunai.

It was then that two lean arms leapt from the quivering canes and two gnarled hands closed round his throat from behind in a grip of steel. The rifle was gone. It had gone in the first shock of that meeting. He squirmed and kicked and grunted, but even his national art of "Judo"-the terrible ju-jitsu, seemed useless. The throttling vice tightened ... tightened. He was thrashing madly about now in the undergrowth in a wild grasping, panting effort to rid himself of those supple hands, those lean brown fingers that were staunching his air-flow with such ruthless efficiency....

It was all over now. The weary Australian leant against a fallen trunk, breathing heavily while the sweat poured in dirty, swollen streams down his face. Here at least was one, thought he, who would never again swagger arrogantly in the overgrown gardens below, would never again gloat over the pitiful relics of some ravished home. Here at least was one who would not be sailing on the midnight convoy. . :

"Calling number six . . . sorta been in trouble tell you about it later ... no, it's all right now . . . yes, the loading is practically finished ... I'd say they'd hold about five hundred altogether ... making south, I guess.... Cheerio."

No, Sumi Yamido would never again see the still glimmer over the temples of the Thousand Isles, nor see the summit of Fujiyama radiant with all aura of pure gold. Nor would he see the bombers sweep out of the moonlight ... see the white stars oil their under-wings glitter dully in the cold light of the watery moon.

He would not hear the ear-splitting crash of bursting bombs, nor the explosions that surged along the waterfront in a red chain of fire. The barges fiercely blazing on the foreshores . . . sliding with repulsive gurgles under the placid waters . . . the shrieking, cursing mass of his countrymen swarming like ants on the reeling convoy, the chaotic crescendos of an infernal orchestra that broke in hideous waves over the settlement ... the eyes of Sumi Yamido were blind, his ears were deaf, to all these things.

And a quiet voice was speaking still on the frowning ridge which looked down only on desolation ... and there was a note of triumph in it ....

"Only one barge looks to be properly afloat. It's hard to see through the smoke-haze, but it's drifting away now. Reckon not too many of them got ashore. ... Call you in the morning, Jim. Oh, this afternoon's trouble? Tell you in the morning. . . . Goodnight! "

J. R. MORGAN.

DEFENCE OF MILNE BAY

AFTER accomplishing many tasks under four different titles, Signals 11 Aust. Div. is now established as all integral member of our Defence Forces. This young unit is proud of the fact that it played an important part with other Signals units in the expulsion of the Japanese from Milne Bay in 1942.

On the 30th of June that year, Signals W.A. Field troops received warning orders to move, destination unknown. Oil arrival at Liverpool, Sydney, it was learned that the unit was to become Signals "C" Force under the control of H.Q. "C" Force, commanded by Major-General C. A. Clowes, and was to be brought tip to full establishment of equipment and vehicles. Lt-Col. W. G. Clementson was appointed Commanding Officer.

On the 12th of August the unit sailed, still unaware of the actual destination. However, all doubts were removed on the morning of the 21st of August when the convoy sailed into Milne Bay and the unit disembarked at Gill Gill jetty with the H.Q. of "C" Force. Typical Milne Bay rain accompanied the disembarkation process and was a portent of the conditions that were to prevail for many weeks. Owing to these weather conditions, areas in which stores and equipment were dumped became quagmires. All troops were employed in unpacking and servicing all technical equipment after arrival.

The force's designation was changed to "Milne Force" and the unit became known as Signals Milne Force. Arrangements were made to have all installations functioning at a newly selected Force H.Q. in three days. All lines were laid by foot as it was impossible to use vehicles because of the state of the roads, flooded rivers and the fact that the lines had to be concealed. In addition, the unit was responsible for the supply and maintenance of lines to the A.A. batteries and the R.A.A.F. squadrons in the area.

On the night of the 25th of August the Japanese landed on the northern shores of the bay and during the ensuing operations Japanese warships entered Milne Bay by night and supported their ground troops with gunfire. On the night of the 6th/7th of September, one of our ships in the harbor was sunk by Japanese naval gunfire and all the unit's L.A.D. vehicles, stores and equipment were lost. For five nights after the attack opened, a R.A.A.F. crash launch was sent out into the bay to act as a reconnaissance craft with wireless communications back to R.A.A.F. H.Q. supplied by Signals Milne Force. The launch was subsequently sunk by a Japanese warship. One operator lost his life and the other returned after an absence of four days. He was found in a half-drowned condition on the shores of the bay by friendly natives in whose village was hiding a Japanese airman. With their help, the operator was able to return with the enemy as prisoner.

A detachment of "A" Section established all observation post at Kanakope and reported all shipping approaching all(] entering the bay.

The successful conclusion of the campaign in which the troops of Milne Force, together with R.A.A.F. units, outsmarted and outfought the Japanese is too well known to bear repetition. During the first few months lines were frequently severed by bombs and on one occasion all the main arteries were extensively damaged. After several experiments a satisfactory method of line construction was evolved. Cross arms of bush timber were scarfed into the coconut trees and twisted D.VIII cable was affixed to them by means of a clove hitch. Eight pair routes of this type were constructed. These provided the essential alternative lines and gave very efficient service for many months.

During operations, the l8th Brigade Signals section had great difficulty in keeping open . line communications between Gill Gili and K.B. Mission owing to Jap patrols cutting the lines at night. To eliminate the land route, Signals Milne Force laid four miles of field cable across the bay between two points, thus providing satisfactory- communications throughout the action. Following the expulsion of the enemy from Milne Bay. Milne Force engaged in a series of operations in consolidation of the position. These Involved provision by Signals Milne Force of communications for task forces in widespread areas, including Goodenough Island, Wanigela, Porlock Harbor and Misima Island.

Impending operations on the northern shores of New Guinea made Milne Bay an important base. Because larger commitments of available lines of communication personnel were needed for the Moresby - Kokoda operations, Signals Milne Force had to make the initial installation of the base communications in their area alone. Line systems were eventually provided for the A.A., R.A.A.F., U.S. Air Force, casualty clearing stations, docks operating companies and the coastal defence batteries. The unit's ranks were sadly depleted in strength by sickness and hard work was the order of the day for those who were left.

An additional task undertaken was the administration and control of twenty "spotting" stations east of 149 degrees, plus the manning of three of these stations. The remainder were represented by personnel from N.G.F. Signals. H.Q. Milne Force gave willing and valuable support to Signals Milne Force in the task of maintaining these "spotting" stations and improving the organisation to relieve the men of many of the difficulties under which they worked on their remote outposts.

The 26th of December 1942 marked another change in the unit. The order was received that Milne Force would be known as 11 Aust. Div. and Signals Milne Force assumed the present title of Signals I I Aust. Div., leaving Milne Bay one month later for Moresby where it was sent to a rest area for training. III July 1943, a small advance party went by air to Dobodura to relieve an Allied division. By the end of July, Signals 11 Aust. DIv. had played an important part in establishing yet another Base Sub Area-this time at Buna. During this period, a volunteer detachment accompanied an Allied force in the Nassau Bay landing. The detachment was later commended for its good work.

On the 20th of September, Lt-Col. Clementson was transferred to Signals 9 Aust. Div. and Lt-Col. J. Hassett took over command of the unit eight days later. Activities for the next four months were confined to rebuilding and reconditioning the existing communications in the Buna-Dobodura-Gona area. The men were given as much recreation as possible to keep them fit after spending such a prolonged period in the tropical zone.

In March 1944 the unit was warned for movement to the Ramu Valley to relieve Signals 7 Aust. Div. A month later the order was cancelled and instructions were issued to hand over all stores and equipment to Signals 2 Aust. Div. for onward movement to Dumpu.

LINE TRIUMPH ON THE KOKODA TRAIL

THE Japanese were twenty-five miles from Port Moresby and that southern bastion the last stronghold guarding the Australian mainland was in grave danger when our forces gathered themselves for the assault that drove the enemy back along the Kokoda Trail. The Japanese defeat and their retreat back over the Owen Stanleys marked the turn of the tide of war in the South-west Pacific.

The Infantry blazed their way across some of' the most difficult and dangerous country in the world - through mountains that rose to 9,000 feet and fell away into invisible valleys. The only means of progress was by foot along a single native track. It was on this track that a carrier line from Moresby to Inonda, had to be constructed to keel) the forward troops in constant, touch with their base.

Malaria mud and mulch

The track was only feet wide with towering tropical timbers on both sides. Fast, flowing rivers had to be crossed by native-built suspension bridges-a feat for trapeze artists. To traverse the Imita Ridge, hand-hewn steps -3,204 in all -were made. Gnarled, rotting roots, some as large as an ocean liner's anchor, lay across the track as a continual stumbling block. The foundation of the track was inain1v rotted vegetation which formed a horrible mulch with a repulsive odour; every step was a pitfall for the unwary. Malaria and scrub typhus had to be combated. The trees which played such a large part in the construction of the line, consisted mainly of sapwood and were very shallow rooted. As the drastic result of growth, falling trees were snapped off at the butts and devastated everything in the path of their fall.

Capture of Kokoda

The vast majority of the country had never been trodden by human foot. Even the nomadic tribes seldom ventured more than a few miles from the footpad. The country was inhabited mainly by the Kiari and Orakiva tribes. The natives were short and stocky in build and for generations had been affected by malaria, but they had great endurance and were excellent carriers. The native villages were all under the control of A.N.G.A.U. The natives proved indispensable to the Allied forces in Papua and played no small part in the construction of this line. As the Japanese were forced to retrace their steps back over the Owen Stanleys in September 1942, the first Moresby-Kokoda telegraph line was being constructed. Close on the heels of the Infantry, Signals I Aust. Corps constructed a single galvanised-wire line from Ilolo to Kokoda. A line was in operation the day following the capture of Kokoda. As the Japanese were hurled back from Kokoda to Buna, this line was extended to Dobodura, providing communications between Moresby and the most forward divisions.

Long hours and hard work

As Dobodura became Corps H.Q., greater demand for telephone and telegraph channels was made. Signals officers seconded from the P.M.G's department made a survey of the Kokoda Trail as a preliminary to building a line capable of carrying carrier wave channels. After going into technicalities about strain, spacing and maintenance, the S.O.-in-C's staff decided that such a line was practical. A special type of wire was manufactured and its strength and flexibility proved by rigorous tests. The initial section of the line between Moresby and Ilolo was a standard P.M.G. permanent line. It was constructed in thirty-two days by the co-operation of Signals 1 Aust. Corps, 18 Aust. L. of C. Signals and Signals 5th (U.S.) Air Force.

Over Owen Stanleys

On the 12th of May 1943, work on the construction of the line over the Owen Stanley Ranges was commenced. The route followed the famous Kokoda Trail. The Ilolo-Kokoda section was divided into
three parts and a detachment from 18 Aust. L. of C. Signals allotted to each. To each detachment were attached medical orderlies from the Australian Medical Corps.

The officers were selected for their knowledge of line construction and experience in handling natives. All spoke Motuan fluently. The men were mainly newcomers to New Guinea but had just completed
six months' training in Australian Signals camps. In addition, while the survey of the route was being carried out, a school in jungle-line construction was conducted by Major Geddes, O.C. I Company. After two weeks the men were ready and eager to commence their task. Personnel, stores and equipment were flown or transported by jeep to the various starting points.

Working without rest

Each of the three parties commenced construction on the same day-the 12th of - May. The method adopted was to make a temporary camp, the line being constructed for a distance of one day's walk
from the camp which would average about four miles. The camp would then be moved on. The jungle on both sides of the track was first cleared to a width of twelve feet, but in some places it was impossible to clear more than a few feet either way. The strongest trees were selected and marked for the fitting of insulators. In places where trees were not available, poles were erected. The insulators to take the wires were fitted to the trees some fifteen feet above the ground. Work commenced early in the morning and finished late in the evening. Only on two occasions was a day of rest called.

Good progress reports

The medical orderlies when not required for dressing cuts and abrasions assisted with the work and
soon became excellent line-men. Improvements were made to the permanent native huts which had been used by the line personnel maintaining the old Kokoda telegraph line. In these and additional huts which the natives built for them, the men were fairly comfortable. Communications with Kokoda
and Moresby were maintained throughout by using the old line. Urgent requests for stores, rations and medicines were thus granted without delay. Progress reports were phoned through each night and the
S.O.-M-C's staff was in close liaison with the officers along the track at all times. As each section of' the line was completed, the line was tested ready for immediate use on completion.

Tinned rations, malaria precautions

Apart, from felling and carrying timber, the natives also assisted with the line construction and proved to be a valuable asset. The head boy of each detachment kept good control over them and the importance of the job became a reality to the natives. They would look at a completed section with reverence as though the line was some holy being. The rations were naturally of tinned variety. The hardworking, hungry men required large quantities of food to keep up their stamina and a continual chain of carriers was employed on the delivery of rations, mail and parcels. Atebrin tablets were taken six times a week and the sensible use of mosquito nets was rigidly enforced against malarial infection. The rate of progress steadily improved. Great rivalry between the three parties arose.

Completion

AS the line neared completion the strain was having a telling effect on the men. They had all lost considerable weight but were still tough and black as the natives who worked beside them. Still, they stuck to their task and carried on until the last piece of line was jointed through twenty-nine days after the day of commencement. The line when tested from Moresby proved to be excellent. Three men were left at each station for maintenance purposes and the remainder moved back to Moresby for a well-earned rest.

U.S. Signals take over

At Kokoda the 5th (U.S.) Air Force Signals took over construction of the line to Inonda. The first half of this section was in the form of a tree-slung route and the latter half was of pole construction. Incidentally, at Wairope two officers took three Japanese prisoners. Mechanics and technicians, both Australian and American, erected the carrier terminal buildings at Moresby and Inonda, completed the wiring and were ready for testing on the 28th of June. The checking of this complicated equipment was then carried out and the system came into operation on the night of the 5th of July-just fifty-five days after the commencement of the project. Transmission came up to expectation and traffic literally poured out from Moresby to Inonda.

"WINNIE THE WAR WINNER"

IN the dark days of 1942 when the tide of Japanese successes engulfed the islands of the Pacific practically down to the shores of Australia, very few people held out any hope for the troops who formed the garrison of Portuguese Timor. No word from them had reached the mainland for fifty-nine days and yet during that time the tiny force of less than 400 men had been waging a ceaseless and successful war of their own against some 15,000 crack Japanese troops. They continued to do so for almost twelve months altogether.

When the Japanese landed at Dilli on the 19th of February, twenty men of the 2/2nd A.I.F. Independent Company managed to blow up the airstrip and fight their way back into the hills to join the other units of the garrison in a bitter guerrilla war against the enemy despite the fact that contact with the mainland had been severed.

It was vital to re-establish communications with Australia and it was for this purpose that men of the Independent company, the Fortress Signals section on the island and members of Signals 8 Aust. Div. pooled their resources to build a wireless set which would be capable of raising Darwin. They had to start from scratch without spare parts or new batteries. The sets they had were too weak; scrounging, the recovery of buried and damaged equipment and raids by fighting sections into enemy camps for materials all played part in the construction of the set which finally saw the light of day and served the Commandos well and faithfully under the name of "Winnie the War Winner".

The first plan was to build an oscillator with a stage of amplification to work on the frequency previously used in communication to Australia. Without a receiver and with no instruments this was a tall order, but under Capt. George Parker (Signals 8 Aust. Div.) four men-CpI John Sargent and L/CpI John Donovan (2/1st Fortress Signals Section) and Signalman Max ("Joe") Loveless and K. Richards (2/2nd Independent Company) tackled the job. Loveless in civil life had been a technician with radio station 7ZL Hobart.

He started by building a transmitter, using a crystal which by luck was close to the required frequency. Power supply became a problem and the couple of available accumulators were nearly flat. News was received of a charging plant in a nearby village and off went the accumulators under escort to be charged. This procedure occurred quite a few times until it was managed to make what naturally became known as a "boong" charger. This instrument of native torture consisted of a system of wheels, a belt driving a motorcar generator and, as the name implied,. was turned by the natives. Their enthusiasm for the job fluctuated and so consequently did the charging rate.

A broken-down 109 set was discovered and the transmitter was stripped for parts to provide an additional amplifier for the oscillator - more punch, stronger signals, better chance of being heard.

Three days after they had commenced to construct the new set, a Dutch sergeant stumbled into the camp with what he thought was a transmitter-receiver. It proved to be nothing more than the usual commercial medium-wave receiving set and out of order, too. The sergeant's effort in carrying this set over forty miles through some of the worst country in the world was not in vain for there were many good parts in it which could be used in the new set.

Loveless planned to build a transmitter, powerful enough to reach Darwin, from all the spare parts on hand. He planned the circuit and asked all the commandos to keep their eyes open for any parts that might be at all useful. CpI Donovan went on a scrounging trip to Attamboa, on the north coast, and returned with the power pack from a Dutch transmitter, two aerial timing condensers, some sixty feet of aerial wire and a receiving set.

The task of building "Winnie" went ahead without delay. Coils were wound on bamboo formers, accumulators were recharged, points were soldered and valve sockets were made. Just about everything had to be guess work in the absence of precision tools and instruments, even to the perusal of a Portuguese radio manual to determine the color code of resistances and condensers. A battery charger was recovered from the enemy when fourteen Commandos went through the Japanese lines to the old Australian H.Q. at Villa Maria. Only a hundred yards from the Japanese they dug up a charger which had been buried there when the H.Q. had been forced to move.

The set was ready to go on the air by the 13th of April when the operator tried to raise Australia with "C.Qs- and -Xs" but no reply was heard. Turning the dial of the receiver, the sounds of music floated into the small shack. Some troubadours were amusing the listening public with a song about "The Last of the Hill Billies". The transmitter was revised and on the 18th of April another attempt was made to contact the mainland. No reply was received but the disappointment of the men would have been allayed had they been aware that their signals had been picked up and passed on to Darwin. All Australian transmitting stations were warned to keep off the air and listen for Timor on the following night.

Some days prior to the 19th of April the H.Q. of "Sparrowforce" (as the Commandos were known) had given the operators a couple of encoded messages "just in case". On that fateful night, "Joe" Loveless tuned up the rig and everybody stood by listening to the chosen group. With suppressed excitement the "brass was pounded" and the highest priority put into the call. The operator was prepared to do this for a couple of hours but a hefty answering signal came back in reply. He was so nervous that he could not tap out the answer fast enough. Although he did not know it, all Australian stations on the group were ordered to stand by and after some hours the messages were passed. A tin of Australian tobacco which had been kept for such an occasion was opened in celebration and a toast in coffee was drunk to "Winnie".

On the following night contact was established again but this time Darwin was suspicious and demanded proof of the guerrillas' identity. Questions and answers were flashed across the Timor Sea:

"Do you know Jack Sargent?"

"Yes, he is here."

"What rank? Answer immediately."

"Corporal.

"Bring him to the transmitter."

"What is your wife's name, Jack~-

"Joan."

"What is your street? And house number?"

The correct answers were flashed back and the mainland accepted the fact that the Australians in Timor were still alive and fighting. Strengthened by the assurance that their homeland was making every effort to help them, the men in Timor fought on. They lived like natives, scrounged their food in the villages, outfought the Japanese and mocked the surrender notes with which the enemy regularly assailed them. The Japanese commander paid them a hard-won tribute when he said: "You, alone, do not surrender to us."

On the 26th of April, an Allied plane came over searching for the party but missed the smoke beacons. It returned just on dusk the following night and dropped parachutes with precious food and stores. Bush wireless took up the glad news and men who had been going barefooted to save their boots for more active work were issued with new pairs. It was then that all knew that "Winnie" had made good.

The mainland wasted no time in asking for bombing targets which were promptly and happily supplied. The men then enjoyed the sight of Allied bombers passing overhead on their way to give the Japanese a taste of their own medicine. A remarkable instance of co-ordination occurred when interference halted a message regarding bombing targets that was being passed one night to Darwin. When conditions improved at 7 o'clock the next morning, the message was completed. As the operator was receiving all acknowledgment from Darwin, our bombers were overhead on their way to the target. On another occasion, all enemy convoy of three ships was sighted and a message promptly despatched to the mainland. The R.A.A.F. sank all three and relieved all ugly situation.

"Sparrowforce" took fresh heart from such things. The men realised that they were no longer a lost unit but another link in the chain that was then being welded for the final overthrow of the enemy.

"Winnie the War Winner" did noble work and as a fitting climax to a useful career guided the rescue party that eventually took the guerrillas home from Timor.

This weird but wonderful set now resides in the Australian War Memorial where it occupies an honored place as a relic of the ingenuity of signalmen in the face of odds and difficulties.

A.A. AND FORTRESS SIGNALS IN NEW GUINEA

AN extract from a sweat-bedabbled document forwarded to the C.S.O. New Guinea L. of C. Signals on the 5th of October 1943 read: "Action has been taken in accordance with your memo and reorganisation of the unit completed." This was the birth notice of Anti-aircraft and Fortress Signals New Guinea. A second generation phoenix was this baby, too. The grandfather, 2/1st A.A. Brigade Signals, was buried in Queensland in October 1943. The father, 2nd A.A. Brigade Signals, passed away when A.A. and Fortress Signals was born. The history of the new unit is closely bound tip with its two previous generations.

In early 1940 1 Aust. A.A. Brigade Signals was formed and after a long period of training it was sent to the Middle East where its service included Palestine, Syria and the Western Desert. Early in 1942 found the unit, then known as the 2/1st A.A. Brigade Signals. with its attendant 1/1st, 2/2nd and 2/3rd A.A,. Regimental Signals back in Australia. From May onwards, sections and detachments raised by the unit moved to take up operational roles throughout Australia and New Guinea.

The Fortress Signals section at Moresby found plenty of work on arrival and for a long time, with the Fortress Signals section at Milne Bay, carried the responsibilities for all coastal Artillery communications in New Guinea. Commitments increased rapidly and as the months passed new batteries arrived, all clamoring for their communications. H.Q. A.A. and Fortress Signals at this stage commanded two companies in Moresby and Milne Bay as well as all the A.A. regimental Signals sections on the island. All Fortress Signals sections came under the control of the parent body on arrival in New Guinea.

There is not much glamour about all A.A. and Fortress Signals unit. Sometimes it is politely reminded of the fact that it works a long way back. Its work is hard and complex. At times the men feel envious of the exploits of divisional or corps units, which do a certain job in New Guinea and then go home again. Most members of the unit have seen a lot of the country. Many have had the satisfaction of hearing the guns for which they had provided communications firing in earnest. All look forward to the day when the enemy will be running so fast that A.A. and Fortress Signals New Guinea can be disbanded and be re-born in a new unit which will provide communications for the guns much closer to the shores of Japan.

RISE AND FALL OF A LANCE-JACK

GIVE a dog a bad name and you make him an outcast. Give him one stripe and you make him a lance-corporal. Give him two pips and you make him-but that is the whole crux of this story, the story of L/CpI Siggy, whose meteoric rise to commissioned rank and equally rapid decline to his present status took place on the island of Goodenough.

L/CpI Siggy was a nondescript chunk of canine vice such as is to be found in any native village. However, he did his small bit to defeat the Japs, even though at times he showed a marked disinclination to co-operate with his mates.

A detachment of Signals on Goodenough was installing line communications on a new airstrip. Everything went well until it came to the stage where the line had to be laid from one side of the strip to the other. The only alternative to taking the line directly across the strip was to run it round the far end, a laborious process involving the digging of hundreds of yards of trench and the use of a good deal of extra cable. There was just one drawback to directly crossing the strip-the Air Force would not allow it to be dug up under any circumstances.

The only possible means of escape was offered by a small open drain running straight across the field. But it was a small drain, far too small for even one of the black urchins to crawl through.

At this stage, Siggy came into the picture. A signalman, sitting dejectedly at the edge of the strip and cursing the unpleasant job ahead, saw the pup dart in one end of the drain and a few minutes later appear at the other end. Here was the solution to all their troubles. All that had to be done was to tie a long piece of cord around Siggy, send him off through the drain, tie one end of the cord to the cable and then drag the cable through.

In view of the importance of the job, the new member of the detachment was given due recognition and, with appropriate ceremony, was promoted on the spot to the rank of lieutenant, the pips being carefully chalked on each shoulder.

The job was as good as done. But complications developed when Lieut. Siggy refused to co-operate. During the day he was pleaded with, bullied, cursed at and fawned over, but he refused to take the line through to the other side. He did make one or two short excursions into the drain, only to come dashing back again, proud of his efforts and ready to play. Everyone decided that the sudden rise to commissioned rank had gone to the pup's head and he was forthwith reduced to the rank of acting unpaid lance-corporal.

It was as a lance-corporal that Siggy carried through the job. Late in the afternoon, during one of his excursions into the drain, a fire was lit at the opening. Very scared, he tore through the drain at top speed, coming out the other end, unharmed. It was then only a matter of minutes before the cable ends were tied to the cord and dragged through to the other side of the strip.

When everybody had stopped breathing sighs of relief, they became conscience stricken at the raw deal that had been handed out to Siggy. Next morning his rank of lance-corporal was confirmed, his name was put on the manning chart as a supernumerary to the W.E. and thence afterwards he was an honored member of the detachment.