Australian Victory March Contingent; Shock Treatment; Timor Evacuation

Ulcer Operation, Thailand & Changi Working Party by V Murray Griffin

THE AUSTRALIAN VICTORY MARCH CONTINGENT

perfectly erect, reminding one of thoroughbred racehorses, nervous, poised ready for the barrier to fly up and the race to commence.

On the command "Dominion contingents . . . quick march" the A.V.C. stepped off with clockwork precision. Every movement told of the many hours of drill and training that had been spent on them and by them.

Leaving Hyde Park near Marble Arch and entering Oxford Street it soon became apparent to the contingent that they would have a hard job maintaining step as the cheering of thousands of people completely drowned the band, which was not more than one hundred yards ahead. Fortunately the drums were audible every few minutes and helped somewhat.

As they swung along past a sea of human faces the feelings experienced by personnel were many and varied, so much so that it is very hard to capture them here on paper and to do them real justice. The thousands of people lining the route ... their way of saying, "Thanks for a job well done," created an emotional effect among these two hundred and fifty Australians. A tingling sensation went up and down their spines.

Here, right before their eyes, were people waving, shouting, applauding; people, who by their display of courage during six years of war, were held in admiration by peace-loving people the world over.  Yes, here they were thanking others for doing no grander and greater job than they had accomplished themselves. Never were there prouder, keener, more willing servicemen and women than those Australians who marched along the Mall past the dais to salute their King and Queen.  Despite the difficult task of keeping the right step and a straight row of twelve, all members of the A.V.C. gave of their best and more.  Here and there among the ranks could be heard whispering: "Keep up, Blue". . . . "Come on,  Jack, that's it .. . . . .. Now turnit on" "Give 'em all you've got." Photos on Photos 1

A little rain fell before the contingent reached its camp, but this didn't damp their spirits one bit. At 12.45 p.m. the task that these Australians had travelled some twelve thousand miles to tackle was finished. And could they relax? No, indeed! In two days' time they were to begin nineteen days' leave.

On Monday the tenth, complete with food coupons, subsistence pay and rail warrants in their pockets, many of the contingent personnel began their leave. To all parts of Great Britain went Australians; some sightseeing and some visiting friends and relations. Many accepted the hospitality of people all over Great Britain who had made applications to the various organizations connected with the billeting of troops whilst on leave.

The Continent, and the official tour of Germany, attracted quite a few and for the first time since World War I the slouch hat became a familiar sight in Paris. A small number managed to see Switzerland as well, thereby cramming more sightseeing into nineteen days than was thought humanly possible.

As predicted, there were many questions asked by English people anxious to migrate to Australia. It can be safely stated that, as a result of conversations with members of the contingent, many people in Great Britain had their knowledge of Australia increased to a great extent. And not in the way generally attributed to Australians overseas.

A trip of this nature could not possibly be without its many humorous incidents. Too many, indeed, to quote here and now. One amusing item, however, concerned two Diggers who inquired of a Parisian news vendor the way to the underground railway, in very bad French. After listening patiently the news vendor said in perfect English, "Now just where do you want to go?"

The leave sped by, at a terrific rate it seemed, and in dribs and drabs the contingent members arrived back at Kensington Gardens. They were tired and weary from travelling, but happy and proud at having seen so much of the world in such a short time.

he night Of 29june saw many happy and smiling faces at a farewell dance held in Australia House. Major-General Eather replied to. Mr. Beasley's address and thanked the women workers whose voluntary service had made the Boomerang Club a home away from home. Next day was one of farewells for those who had made friends in and around London.

The A.V.C. left its camp next morning for Waterloo station and the waiting Shropshire. On the day of departure for Australia the English summer which, during the contingent's stay, had behaved badly, came good and the ship pulled away from the wharf in bright sunshine. The contingent lined the decks once again on leaving harbour.

Who could adequately reproduce their thoughts in print, as they stood to attention and watched the buildings that were Portsmouth fade into the distance. Now and then the wind would carry to their ears the strains of "Waltzing Matilda" played by a Navy band somewhere ashore. The A.V.C. was on its way home.

Turning her nose in the direction of Gibraltar, Shropshire settled down to the long voyage that lay ahead. In their respective order Gibraltar and that gallant little isle of Malta, whose stand against terrific bombing is admired throughout the world, were introduced to the A.V.C.

At Port Said, Suez, Aden and Colombo it was another story altogether. These places needed no introduction to the members of the Australian Victory Contingent. To the Wogs he was still "George", a happy-go-lucky, devil-may-care sort of a fellow; always a little high-spirited but never intending any real harm.

The same high-speed and amusing bargaining went on as before in the streets and bazaars, and although the Wog generally came off second best he still revelled in having a "Dinkie-di Aussie" to wrangle with. The shoe-shine boys still practised their old trick of drumming up trade by dabbing white solution on footwear.

Kantara, Tewfik and Suez brought back memories to those who had previously visited these places during their service in the Middle East. Many minds, no doubt, flashed back to leaves that had been spent in Tel Aviv, Cairo, Alexandria; the happier side of war. And there were thoughts for those gallant comrades buried beneath desert sands.

The arrival at Colombo was the signal for a new wave of excitement to sweep Shropshire. Only ten days' sailing stood between the ship and Fremantle. The contingent was turning into the home stretch.

Thursday, 8 August, found the contingent back in Australian waters. As members lined the decks as the Shropshire approached the western gateway to Australia a voice, soft but deliberate, came from the Army ranks: "There's no place like home." Judging from the expressions on faces around him, he spoke for all.

There was, however, one more task. On 16 August, beneath a bright Australian sun the A.V.C. made its last public appearance, giving the people of Adelaide a sample of the marching that had brought it praise during the parade in London.

K. COLBERT (Second AIF)

SHOCK TREATMENT

curly tube and played on the back of his neck. The idea was for him to exercise his lungs by blowing like fury into this contraband the air playing on his neck was to -keep his spine cool so that he wouldn't burst his boiler. It caused a lot of unseemly hilarity on the deck, this machine. Of course, nobody thought to tell Dopey the tin was full of soot.

"You'd think a bloke like that wouldn't last long in the service, but Dopey was all right on his job. He was quite a good stoker provided nobody asked him to think too much; and he never minded hard work. He was just silly as a sort of side line, if you see what I mean.

"He used to put sugar on his meat and tomato sauce on his duff and 'wet' things like that which didn't do any harm and gave the lads a lot of amusement. When he'd go ashore on short leave in places like Malta or Alexandria or Athens, he'd pack a little suitcase just in case he got lost in the jungle or captured by bandits or marooned on a desert island or something. Dinkum he did. He'd put in a loaf of bread, bottle of sauce, tin of cigarettes, packet of matches, roll of bandage, snakebite outfit, spare pair of socks, couple of tins of sardines, cake of soap, a book or two to read and a boy scout knife and a compass.

"He was in one of our old destroyers in the Tenth Flotilla, and, believe it or not, he did a damn good job. It was pretty nerve-racking in the Med. early in the war, but Dopey just soldiered on in his own peculiar way, and the mere fact of having him in the ship seemed to be good for the morale of the others. They'd be too busy laughing at Dopey and devising new ways of 'getting him in' to worry about themselves; and besides, he was always willing to do a 'sub' for anybody who wanted a run ashore out of watch, and he never minded being given all the dirty jobs.

I "Well, this went on for a couple of years and then gradually Dopey seemed to lose his punch. He'd still put golden syrup on his roast-beef, and he'd never neglect to put up a bit of dinner for his toy rabbit that he kept in his locker, but he did it now without any conviction-just a sort of habit.

"Some of the lads thought he was trying to work his passage home. He never talked much about himself and he didn't get many letters, but somebody noticed he was a bit worse after the mail arrived one day, and the 'buzz' got around. Some thought he must have some sort of domestic trouble or maybe he was courting 'douchy' as the lads call it - and wanted to get home to get spliced. Others thought the bombs had got him down a bit and he really was going round the bend.

"It's hard to say what was wrong with him. Even when he finally put in to see the captain and asked to be sent home he didn't have much of an explanation to offer. He just said he couldn't seem to take any interest any more and couldn't concentrate-not that he was such a hell of a star turn at concentrating at the best of times.

"Well, it's remarkable how much a good destroyer captain knows about his troops and the Skipper knew all about Dopey, so instead of messing about and asking a lot of questions he bunged him ashore into hospital for observation.

"They put Dopey in a little ward with one other bloke who was also under observation. This other bloke was a dockyard foreman and he really was 'batchy', although Dopey didn't know that at the time. This bloke used to just lie in his bed and stare at the ceiling all day, so old Dopey thought that was the right thing to do. He just laid on his bed and stared at the ceiling too; and when this bloke would yell in the night, Dopey would give a couple of yells too.

"Some of his messmates went up to see him and they said he seemed to be enjoying himself all right. He didn't say much while the 'quack' was about but the wink he gave them when the doctor wasn't looking seemed to indicate that he was doing all right. But you could never tell with Dopey.

"After a bit the ship had to go out on a job and nobody saw Dopey for about three weeks. but when they got back they were surprised to see him on the dock side with his bag and hammock, waiting to rejoin. He'd been discharged from the hospital, cured. I don't know what sort of treatment the 'quacks' gave him but he was a new man when he got back-. The first thing he did was to chuck his toy rabbit

"Oh, sorry," said the chief stoker. "Yes, well he did have a shock treatment in a way, but the 'quacks' didn't give it to him-the other bloke did. You see, old Dopey was lying there following this other bloke's motions-staring at the roof and groaning and carrying on like I told you. Whatever the other bloke did, Dopey did; and he was just getting settled down nicely into the routine of the thing when one morning Dopey woke up and found the other cove had put in a new bit of business. He'd gone and cut his ruddy 'ead off with a razor!

"It was a shock all right. It might have sent an ordinary man round the bend, but not Dopey. It cured him!"

KAMLOOPS (R.A.N.)

"You'd think some people had never seen a sailor before."

TIMOR EVACUATION

Little was said however, or known, of the equally hazardous circumstances attending the naval operation which effected the rescue. This is the story of how Arunta in a meticulously planned and executed effort gathered our soldiers from under the very nose of Jap patrols and reconnaissance aircraft and returned them, gaunt and haggard, safe to Darwin harbour.

The destroyer had been operating in New Guinea waters, fairly excitingly, for about six months. All of her crew were expecting, and relishing in anticipation, a trip south for refit and leave. She slid in through the reef at Port Moresby one glary afternoon and dropped anchor off the end of the little jetty. Regardless of the "buzz", every man knew that the "dinkum oil" would flow only in orders from the Senior Naval Officer ashore. 

Lining her rails, waiting, they'd been told that if sailing orders were flashed by light from the white-painted Headquarters on the hill it meant Sydney - nothing secret or requiring operational conferences there. But if they came by the usual sealed brown envelope, the Sydney buzz was laid.

When a fast launch slid out from the jetty and headed for them their fears were realized. The envelope was handed inboard, passed to the captain, and in five minutes the bos'n's mate was piping hands to stations. With the speed of long practice anchor was weighed, snugged home, and, with lookouts and gun crews once more closed up, Arunta eased her length seawards, altered course when out to the eastward and increased speed to twenty-five knots for Darwin.

There was one more job before Sydney.

As soon as the destroyer secured along-side at Darwin specially picked seamen of her crew set to work loading aboard a dozen or so flat-bottomed rafts waiting on the pier. Exercising with all speed the picked team slung them inboard on torpedo derricks and boats falls. Then they slung them outboard and dropped them in the water; inboard again, repeating the evolution till it was performed in a matter of seconds. The coxswains practised steering unwieldy charges with a sweep astern. Working against time, for information had arrived of the need for urgency, the captain was satisfied with their progress. There is however, no surf at Darwin and lack of practice in it was later to jeopardize the success of the whole expedition.

Arunta left Darwin early in the morning, steaming at a speed which would ensure raising Timor at night. She was quite without escort of any description, coursing into waters controlled completely by a triumphant enemy, and no one aboard suffered any illusions as to her chances if they were caught.

Though a certain tenseness was evident in the demeanour of her crew there was little apprehension - the scheme of sneaking up to the Japs' back door, as it were, snatching from him without his knowledge that eagerly sought unit so long a thorn in his flesh, and getting away using all the tremendous power with which their ship was imbued, appealed strongly to all.

The destroyer made good time towards Timor, still undetected, but with darkness intermittent showers of heavy rain set in. Under any other circumstances navigating at such speed in that island-cluttered sea would have been lunacy, but her pilot had taken her through closer waters
than these. Completely darkened, the only sound the whip of the wind aloft and the tearing of parted waters as her bow knifed through, she sped on.

Orders had been wirelessed to Commando Headquarters and the soldiers were to be on a certain beach at midnight. As soon as the ship was sighted coming in a fire was to be lit at the beach's right end; then another 1oo yards to the left, and a third one between them, for which the captain would steer. Necessity for the correct sequence of lighting was stressed; it would be embarrassing, to say the
least for the Skipper to use as his leading mark a Japanese camp fire!

At 11-50 p.m. all eyes were strained into the void ahead, striving to pierce the blackness which fell wide and dense on all sides. With five minutes wanting to midnight there came suddenly the urgent - excited but not scared - report from a bridge lookout:

"Bridge! Bearing green one-oh. Land." The landfall was perfect. Carefully the destroyer eased in closer to shore. Swinging slowly from left to right director above the bridge searched the shining strip of beach, twin guns followed round, open-mouthed barrels gaping the water, their tin-hatted crews closed up round the breeches, shells in their arms. Nothing moved.

Then, to the right, a flicker of flame showed, grew rapidly to a fire. Another further left.

And as a third flickered and grew the captain swung his bow for the centre light and headed straight in. The commandos were there.

Speed was now the essential thing. Working swiftly, rafts and boats were swung out and lowered. The motor-boat and cutter were to tow the rafts inshore. A shaded blue light signalled from the beach: "Fairly heavy surf running." You could hear it if you listened, a sullen pounding roar.

Closed up at full action stations the destroyer watched the low dark shapes merge into the gloom towards the beach. They waited nearly an hour before the first raft paddled back. Standing at the waist rails with lines and scrambling nets the sailors heard out of the night a sudden excited jabbering, followed instantly by an admonitory "Sssh!" Then, clear as a bell, the plaintive wall of a
child! Coming alongside the raft disclosed its surprising cargo-Portuguese women and children, with only two commandos. Quickly they were hauled inboard.

It was found later that the Portuguese had got wind of the projected rescue, and in return for their many kindnesses the soldiers had offered them like succour. For four days they had marched with the hardened fighters through terrible jungle to this rendezvous with the Navy. But the ship had been there an hour, and there were only two commandos aboard. One of the hardest things the captain had to do was to order that no more civilians be embarked. If the Japs caught the Portuguese on the beach at dawn they would suffer little; if they caught Arunta ...

There was more bad news. The rafts' crews reported their craft unmanageable in the surf running, and all had capsized. So, righting them to seaward of the breakers, the crews were told to wait and the commandos to strip everything and swim out to them. This they did, reluctantly abandoning Brens and rifles which had been dear to them for many a desperate month, and, swimming out to the rafts with just a money-belt round the waist, were hauled in over the side.

Back at the ship they scrambled, pushed, hauled, and shoved themselves inboard. The operation had already taken too long, and the faintest tinge of lightening grey was discernible to eastward. The night was pungent with cries of "Smack it about! " and "Full speed there! " and with stronger oaths from the soldiers as their bare feet hit the hot iron deck over the engine-room, all the more fervent because of the necessity of smothering. them. One brown body from Bondi stubbed his toe on a ring-bolt, sat down to rub it, and leapt like a Dervish as his bare bottom made intimate contact with the hot plates.

Soon they were all aboard. Motor-boat and cutter were already at the davit head, and holes were smashed in rafts. No time for hoisting now. From the engine-room came the faint clang of bells. A smother of white foamed under her counter, and her stern slewed round under the grip of spinning screws. The muted whine of the engine-room blowers crescendoed to a hungry roar. Long hull shivering with the violence of the force impelling her, the destroyer sped urgently for the open sea.

An hour's grace at full speed was given her before the eastern horizon became aglow with the dawn. Then, crowning mercy, the heavens opened and a rain squall poured down and shrouded the little ship in curtains of impenetrable opacity. They had one fright. For a moment the rain eased and in the break the sun's rays bathed them in a revealing glow. Men at guns and depth-charges stared anxiously about them. Then the clouds closed again. It is on record that this was the first time Australian sailors have grinned in the rain....

A destroyer plunges and cavorts like a thing possessed in a bit of a slop, and at full speed Arunta was no exception. The commandos had been fed, with that generosity and open hearted magnanimity  characteristic of men-at-arms generally, and those sea-going ones in particular, on thick hot soup and anything the sailors could force on them. This on stomachs long used to rice and wild pig  with the lively movement of the speeding ship, induced the inevitable effect. Soon the "swotties"  fervently wished themselves back on solid Timor; but they'd stuck infinitely  worse discomforts than this before.

Late that afternoon the destroyer slipped quietly in through the boom and headed between the wrecks up harbour, securing again alongside. There the soldiers lined up on her quarter deck. They looked like figures in an atrocity propaganda film-starved, gaunt, 2nd as overgrown as a brushwood patch. Haggard and emaciated they stood there, clad in anything the sailors could give them. An order cracked out. As one man the lines snapped to attention, heads up, in their eyes a light that brought a lump to your throat. The officer stepped aft and saluted the captain.

"Carry on, sir?"

"Yes, please."

Only coming back was his limp evident.

The lines turned and filed over the gangway. One grizzled old sergeant spoke to the coxswain:

"If only we could have saved our gear and marched ashore as a company - not like a crowd of bloody scarecrows. . . ."

J. E. MACDONNELL (R.A.N.)

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