Chapter 9 New Old Contemptibles; Private War; Ambon Outpost

FOR several months before Japan entered the war, the R.A.A.F. had been at battle stations in Malaya and the islands to the north and north-east of Australia. Three squadrons (bomber, bomber-reconnaissance, and general purpose) had been sent from Australia to Malaya, a fighter squadron was at the ready at Rabaul, with Port Moresby, the main island base, equipped with Hudsons and Catalina long-range bomber and reconnaissance aircraft.

When the Japanese struck through Thailand, many thousands of miles had been flown in reconnaissance by R.A.A.F. squadrons. The rapidity of the British withdrawal down the Malay Peninsula, however, did not permit the most effective use of the air weapon, but within the limits it imposed on it, the R.A.A.F., in conjunction with the R.A.F.' the Dutch Air Force, and Malay volunteer squadrons, performed prodigies when the real advance gathered weight and speed.

In Malaya, Brewster Buffaloes were in use by the R.A.F. as fighter aircraft, and they proved to be no match, in speed or hitting power, for the Japanese aircraft; nor were they in sufficient numbers. The inevitable happened. The Allied air forces found their aerodromes blasted and many of their serviceable aircraft destroyed on the ground, and themselves drawn into the vortex of the land forces' withdrawal.

At Kota Bharu, where the Japanese made a major landing, the R.A.A.F. aerodrome was quickly untenable. Tremendous devastation, however, was wrought at Kota Bharu on enemy landing troops, convoys, and transports, before and after the withdrawal to Singapore was ordered. From Singapore, the air forces evacuated to Sumatra, and after heroic but ineffectual resistance there, to Java; and with the Japanese invasion pattern repeated in Java, thence to Australia.

Paradoxically, behind this crumbling of the British forces in Malaya, lies the story of some of the most glorious, resolute, and self-sacrificing air fighting the world has ever seen.

Much of it was done by the R.A.A.F. When the R.A.A.F. retired from Malaya, Sumatra, and Java, it did so under orders, and because the land forces were unable to hold its aerodromes or to defend them against the encroachments, infiltrations, and ambushes of the Japanese. Even when the R.A.A.F. squadrons moved back, they continued to fight bitterly against an enemy who was better mounted than they, and had vast numerical air superiority over them.

From the earliest stages, the R.A.A.F. has fought an offensive battle, and this strategy was never relaxed in Malaya. The flight- and battle-weary men fought and

flew beyond all reasonable endurance in inadequate planes. To read of the aircraft they used-they included Sharks, Albacores, Buffaloes, and Glenn-Martins-is like turning back the pages of aviation history.

First R.A.A.F. blows were struck against enemy ships and in defence of the Indians who were holding the most northerly land line at Singora. The R.A.A.F. squadrons supporting the A.I.F. brigades to the southward of Johore were also continually in the air. When the first invasion attempt was made at Kota Bharu, it was the R.A.A.F. Hudsons which beat it back. However, the enemy's weight was too great, the fall of Kota Bharu was inevitable; and although the Hudsons swept in time and time again, the enemy, suffering terrible losses, landed; and another aerodrome from which the R.A.A.F. could operate was lost.

Thousands of miles were flown in daily reconnaissances at the behest of the Army, along the west and east coasts of the peninsula, from south to north. These flights along the east coast became the subject of comment among Allied fighting men, who were apt to say the Hudsons ran with the regularity of trains-and like trains they always reached their destination.

As the war progressed, not all of them returned. On one occasion three aircraft set out on a mission. Only one of them came back. The pilot immediately bombed up and reloaded, and set out again-on his last operation. This is 'Just one isolated instance of gallantry in a period made epic by the courage of our pilots and air crew.

The tale of Malaya was the tale of lost aerodromes, and "too little too late" all over again. As the enemy pressed the Army back, the Air Force was forced back also. What support they were able to give the land forces, was poured out freely to the bitter dregs. Men went aloft in obsolete aircraft with a maximum speed of go miles an hour and a snail rate of climb, and bombed their targets. Their bombs gone, they would risk all in a madman's dive, to spray the advancing enemy with machine-gun fire until their magazines were empty. Then, unarmed and defenceless, they would run the gauntlet of modern, fast enemy fighters to return to their base.

These sorties called for the highest possible courage, and this was never lacking. Even their best fighter aircraft were outmatched by the Japanese fighters, and the men sacrificed all but essential arms and weight by stripping them to increase their speed.

Desperate attempts were made to reinforce the Air Force in Malaya, by air and sea, but the reinforcements were not in great numbers, and they came too tardily to affect the result of the campaign.

Eventually, without mainland bases from which to operate, all the various squadrons-fighter, bomber and reconnaissance, Dutch, British and Australian-were forced back into Singapore Island. As it was impossible for them all to operate from there, it was decided that the fighter squadrons should remain, and the rest should move out and operate from Sumatra. Sumatra fell, and they went thence to Java. Java fell and they came to Australia.

They had been swept back in the maelstrom, but they were unbeaten and unbroken, and they had covered themselves with glory. The men of Malaya proved themselves almost equal to the impossible. Those of them who came back are still in battle, those who did not will live in history with the heroes of Australia at war.

Practically all the R.A.A.F., together with R.A.F. and Dutch Air Force personnel were evacuated from Malaya. Most of the R.A.F., after recuperating, were disposed of by Air Ministry, London, in other spheres, and the Dutch formed a bomber squadron in Australia, where they are still in operation. Other Dutch, who were evacuated, were sent overseas for training. The Australians continued to fight from Australian bases.

Meanwhile, the R.A.A.F. squadrons in the islands north and north-cast of Australia were meeting heavy blows from the enemy, and for two months, inadequately equipped, they held the fort until aid arrived. Since then, they have been almost continuously in action by the side of the American forces.

It can be truly said that in the first days of December 1941 Australia stood in her most deadly peril. She was saved from the horrors of an Asiatic invasion by this new generation of "Old Contemptibles" which had arisen, and taken to the air.

These lads of the R.A.A.F., in the face of overwhelming odds, and flying aircraft technically and numerically inferior to those of the Japanese, performed prodigies of valour; and incredibly, almost miraculously, helped in holding the thin blue line which brought the Japanese avalanche to a halt.

Many of them never came back; but the value of their sacrifice in Malaya, Sumatra, Java, Ambon, Celebes, Rabaul, and the islands about Australia, is Australia's continued safety. By stemming the Japanese flood, they helped to preserve for Australia and her Allies the vital bases from which the enemy is now being hammered, and from which, one day, counter-offensives will be launched.

Those first days of December were to Australia what the early days of September 1940 were to Britain. What the Spitfire and Hurricane boys of the R.A.F. did for Britain in hurling back the Luftwaffe, the Wirraway, Hudson, and Catalina boys of the R.A.A.F. did for Australia.

Later, the Hudson boys were to take part in the reconnaissance which led to the victory of the Allies in the Battle of the Coral Sea; but by then, they were supported by the Americans. In the early days they fought alone. For two months they held the Japanese at bay unaided, flying daily over many thousands of miles, never failing in their task, giving battle to the Zeros almost daily, frequently returning to their base riddled with enemy bullets. Yet only three Hudsons and one Catalina were lost in these expeditions. Not one Hudson was shot down by the Japanese Zeros over Rabaul, but several of the enemy were destroyed by the Hudsons' accurate fire.

Long before the Japanese struck, the R.A.A.F. was preparing for action, and a Hudson squadron on the Thailand border was the first to strike at the enemy. Five hours before they declared war, the Japanese treacherously struck, and as a reprisal, this R.A.A.F. Hudson squadron bombed a big Japanese convoy on its way from Indochina to Malaya. Soon after the Japanese attack on Malaya began, British army authorities officially credited this squadron with killing 15,000 Japanese in seven and a half hours during their attempt to land on the Malayan coast.

Second blow was struck by another Hudson squadron from a Netherlands East Indies base. Its baptism of fire came the day after the Japanese launched their attack, when our aircraft raided Helen Reef (Tobi Island), the nearest Japanese port to the Netherlands East Indies and New Guinea. Three of these pilots were later awarded D.F.Cs. Other operations which helped stem the enemy tide included the destruction

of an enemy reporting ship, direct hits on three cruisers, attacks on submarines, and the, rounding up of Japanese luggers.

The crippling effect of these R.A.A.F. blows so worried and infuriated the Japanese High Command, that desperate counter-action was ordered, and it took the form of raids on R.A.A.F. bases. We lost heavily in men and machines, both to the north-east and the north-west of Australia, and our men faced stupendous tasks. Heavily bombed runways had to be repaired under a continuous rain of Japanese bombs and machine-gun and cannon fire; aircraft had to be serviced under fire; Hudsons were used as interceptors against faster, more modern, more maneuverable Japanese fighters and bombers; men worked fantastic hours, performed fantastic feats; to hold the fort till aid came.

To the north-east, the position was as bad as to the north-west. In the face of withering ground fire, the reconnaissance bombers attacked distant Japanese bases, and these flights were among the finest feats of this period, involving as they did, great risks, exceptional navigational skill, and almost superhuman endurance and devotion to duty. The photographic results of these audacious expeditions, into the very heart of the enemy lair, abundantly justified the risks and losses. Some of them were carried out with such skill that the enemy never learned until too late that some of his innermost secrets had been prised from him. On the information gained, plans for the successful resistance at New Guinea were laid by the Allies.

Meanwhile, Rabaul and other north-eastern bases had been subjected to heavy enemy batterings, and eventually the Japanese decided it was-safe to launch their landing parties. Hopeless, gallant interceptions were attempted at Rabaul by five Wirraways against overwhelming odds, and all were shot down. But each one brought down a superior enemy aircraft before it was put out of action.

In spite of the depletion of its front-line aircraft, if such they could be called, the R.A.A.F. kept hammering at the enemy, and caused him such grievous losses that his schedule of attacks on other bases and the mainland of Australia was hopelessly disorganized.

The R.A.A.F. serving in Malaya, in aerial combat alone, shot down 51 Japanese aircraft, destroyed many ships, and caused many casualties. R.A.A.F. units performed magnificently in Sumatra and Java also. In Malaya, one Australian wing flew Brewster Buffaloes and Lockheed Hudson bomber-reconnaissance aircraft, and credit for the arrival at Singapore of six large convoys of reinforcements and equipment was largely due to them. The aircraft of this squadron gave warning of approach of enemy convoys to Kota Bharu, Endau, and Palembang, and subsequently bombed Japanese troopships, landing craft, and troops on the beaches. Each time, they sank transports, ships and barges, and killed large numbers of the enemy. At Kota Bharu their aim was so accurate that the first landing attempt was repulsed, and at Palembang the Japanese suffered fantastic losses.

During these operations, there were many feats of gallantry. In the retirement down the west coast of Malaya, Sergeant Reginald Ernest Cormie, of Adamstown, a member of a fighter squadron, provided air force crews for two armoured cars which would otherwise have had to be abandoned. Cormie kept one in action against the enemy all the way to Kuala Lumpur, and the Army took over the other one.

Flight Lieutenant Max White, flight commander of the Buffalo squadron, lost both his followers, shot down over Penang. He refuelled and rearmed, and set out alone to attack Japanese troops who were moving south. White did not return.

Flight Lieutenant Ronald Widmer, of Burwood, Victoria, returning from a bombing attack in his Hudson, found that his aerodrome was being strafed by enemy fighters. He turned out to sea, jettisoned his bombs, returned, shot down one of the enemy and drove the others off.

Flying Officer Herbert Clarence Plenty, and Flying Officer Cecil Austin Hewitt, of Glen Osmond, South Australia, while on coastal patrol, were shot down by Japanese fighters. Plenty kept his crew in the aircraft for 15 minutes while he held the dinghy under water to give the Japanese the impression that the crew had been killed. When the Japanese left, Plenty and his men rowed the dinghy to an island and later sailed a sampan 100 miles down the coast, where they were rescued. On returning to their station they resumed full duty immediately. Plenty was afterwards awarded the D.F.C.

On another occasion, a Hudson bomber was shot down, and while the crew were drifting on their rubber dinghy, Japanese in a motor patrol boat machine-gunned and charged them, cutting the dinghy in half and leaving the men struggling in the water. The Australians swore revenge for that foul deed.

Flight Lieutenant "Congo" Kinnimont shot down a Zero fighter over the Mau are2 before breakfast one morning and on another flight after lunch, he bagged another one in combat.

Flying Officer "Dainty" Wallace became a dual member of the "Caterpillar" Club. While doing a slow roll over the Strait of Johore one of his engines caught fire and he baled out. Later, in an operation over the Mersing area, he was involved in a mid-air collision, and he baled out again. Sergeant Harrison, the other party to the collision, baled out also, and landed in the jungle. He stayed with his aircraft for two days, and then started walking, making only a mile a day through the thick undergrowth. One night he climbed on to a native fishing platform to sleep, and later related that he spent the night "pushing off the crocodiles with his feet".

Flight Sergeant Raymond Gordon Wheatley, of Sydney, at Palembang rescued the crew of a Blenheim bomber which had crashed and caught fire while taking off. He carried them to a ditch, and after the bombs in the aircraft had exploded, arranged for their medical treatment.

Flight Lieutenant Richard Ashley Atkinson was awarded the D.F.C. for his behaviour when the R.A.F. flying boat he was flying was forced down into the sea near Singapore in an attack by enemy fighters in December 1941. The fight had lasted for 15 minutes, when a burst from a Zero holed Atkinson's petrol tanks, which exploded. Two of the crew were wounded, and most of them suffered severely from burns. They were unable to launch the dinghy, and had to remain in the water for six and a half hours before being rescued by a Dutch submarine.

This block was covered by armed Air Force personnel also. The first operation began at 6-30 a.m. on February 15. A striking force of bombers took off with a top cover of Hurricanes, but bad weather compelled the abandonment of the top covering force, and the bombers moved unescorted to their target-enemy shipping moving towards and landing at Sumatra. Over Palembang One, this striking force met a very strong enemy fighter screen of 26 Zero fighters, and only one of our bombers got through. It attacked the target and sank several troop-carrying barges. Four attempts were made by the remainder of this force to penetrate to the target, and eventually they managed to do so under cover of the heavy black smoke which was rising from the blazing oil refineries.
On this sortie, 25 enemy vessels of all types were sighted. There were warships and landing barges packed with Japanese soldiers. The bombers immediately swooped to the attack, shooting up barges and men. The havoc was terrible. The second striking force did not encounter fighter opposition, and was able to attack the target from a very low level. In the face of very severe A.A. fire, a direct hit was scored on a 5ooo-ton motor vessel. The bombers then turned in their tracks, and diving steeply, poured a hall of machine-gun bullets into the barges on the river. The Japanese by this time had suffered heavy losses and were near panic. Turning for home, our bombers met enemy fighters and shot one down. The third striking force sank a 4,000-ton motor vessel, and the fourth striking force scored direct hits on a 3,500-ton merchant ship, which was left burning fiercely. The weather had now cleared somewhat, and the fighters joined in the battle, roaring low over the packed barges and ships, and spreading death and destruction with their multiple machine guns. The fifth striking force turned its attention to Japanese ships lying in Banka Strait, and secured a direct hit on the bows of an 8ooo- or 10,000-ton motor vessel which was seen to be on fire. They then flew low over the burning vessel and sprayed it with their machine guns, flying back and forth until all their ammunition was exhausted. The sixth striking force attacked destroyers which were escorting the transports and strafed destroyers, transports, and barges from mast height. Two enemy fighters were shot down by a Hurricane. As in other actions in the early stages of the Japanese invasion, the pilots carried out a veritable ferry bombing and strafing service, flying over the target, dropping their bombs or exhausting their ammunition, and then hurrying back to their secret base at Palembang Two, to refuel, reload, and rebomb, and flying back to carry on their attacks. Thus the battle raged, the Japanese suffering heavy losses until only six bombs remained on the aerodrome. A wing commander and a squadron leader surveyed the little pile. "We can't leave them here," they told each other. So they loaded up their bomb rack with the last six bombs, and climbing in their aircraft together, flew over the scene of destruction, and let the last bombs go. They then returned, grinning happily, to Palembang Two. By this time, all movement on the river had ceased. While the battle was at its height, two Blenheim bombers which were regarded as operationally unserviceable stood on the aerodrome. Two pilots who were without aircraft inspected them and sought permission to take them up "to join in the fun". "Are they serviceable?" the C.O. asked, and the men were forced to admit they were not. The C.O. refused permission. But the two pilots were not to be done out of their share of the battle, and for three hours they worked solidly on the two disabled aircraft to repair the damage. Again they paraded to the C.O. and sought permission. "Are they serviceable?" asked the C.O. "Yes, sir," was the response. "Then go to it," said the C.O., "and good luck." In a matter of minutes, those two Blenheims were in the sky with the maximum load of ammunition, adding to the chaos of the Japanese landing force. Swooping down to 30 or 40 feet, they peppered men and barges as they made for land. The enemy losses in this whole action are conservatively estimated at two hits on a 10,000-ton motor vessel; a 4,000-ton motor vessel sunk; direct hits and near misses on a 5,000-ton motor vessel; an 8,000- or 10,000-ton motor vessel sunk; 20 troop-carrying barges sunk in rivers; a very large number of Japanese troops killed; mast-height attacks on destroyers with great damage and casualties; three fighters destroyed and five damaged. In the words of the report, "It was a good day's work."

BIRD'S EYE VIEW. This is what it looks like when you make a mast-height attack on an enemy convoy. The sketch was made by Flight Sergeant G. B. Lynch, an experienced Hudson pilot serving with R.A.F. Coastal Command immediately after his return from the strike.

At no time in the early stages of the war with Japan did the tiny island of Ambon, almost due north of Darwin, figure in the communiqués and despatches which reported the doings of the R.A.A.F., yet some of the most remarkable flying in the Southern Hemisphere was performed by the R.A.A.F. squadron posted to that outpost.

From Ambon, the R.A.A.F. sent out daily reconnaissance aircraft which flew vast distances prying out the enemy's secrets, and setting to detect and report any hostile move which would indicate that his peaceful protestations were no more than the mask they were later shown to be.

How valuable the work performed by this squadron was, was shown almost six months later, when three of the pilots of the squadron were awarded D.F.Cs for these reconnaissances and for their attacks on the enemy's ships and stations.

Two of the three men who received the awards were commercial pilots, well known in Victorian civil aviation circles in peacetime; and their civil training, in large aircraft heavily laden with mails and passengers, and their exact navigational knowledge stood by them in their wartime operations. These two men were Wing Commander John Peter Ryland, of Elsternwick, Victoria, Flight Lieutenant Richard Archibald Dunne, of Preston, Victoria, and the third man to win the D.F.C. was Flying Officer William Vyner Duckett White, of Edgecliff, New South Wales.

The citation which accompanied the award to Ryland disclosed that he had demonstrated skill and leadership of a high order in the command of his squadron. His devotion to duty while flying, and his personal courage and determination in the face of heavy odds, had proved an inspiration to those under his command, and had contributed largely to the splendid efficiency and high state of morale in the squadron. From the time he assumed command of the squadron, Ryland took an active part in flying operations and reconnaissance against the enemy. He carried out reconnaissance in all kinds of weather, and as a result of these flights, much valuable information was gained. At Ambon, Ryland led every raid his squadron made against the enemy, and in these raids, enemy shipping was successfully bombed. At this station, Ryland completed 250 hours' operational flying against the enemy.

In the course of operations against the enemy carried out from Ambon, Flight Lieutenant Dunne completed more than 200 hours' operational flying. He continuously led his flight in numerous reconnaissances and before the Japanese occupation of the island he carried out raids on enemy assembly bases which resulted in the disorganization of their plans. On many of the raids which he led, his flight encountered strong and

vicious opposition from enemy fighters and ground fire, but Dunne always completed his job with grim determination and a complete disregard for his own safety. His gallant conduct throughout this very trying period provided a great stimulus to the morale of his colleagues and the men under him.

Dunne was the leader of his flight on the historic raid on Tobi Island. His squadron leader met with a mishap, but Dunne unhesitatingly took command, and successfully completed the mission as originally planned. Throughout the opposition the squadron encountered, Dunne set a high example by his devotion to duty, leading his flight into the battle with courage, vigour and determination.

White was captain of aircraft in operations from Ambon which included both reconnaissance and raids. His constant devotion to duty, and his skill and daring while flying against the enemy in the Celebes region was a shining example to his crew. In January 1941, immediately before the Japanese invasion of Ambon, White carried out almost continuous reconnaissance of the large and well defended Japanese invasion fleet. The enemy force was strongly defended by fighter aircraft, but despite the odds and the persistent attacks on his lone aircraft, White courageously, persistently, and skilfully flew over the fleet until it was within io miles of the landing beaches.

As the result of the persistent attacks by the Japanese, White's aircraft was so seriously damaged that it could no longer be flown, but the information he brought back enabled the land forces to be disposed to the best advantage to meet the impending attack.

After the withdrawal from Ambon, this squadron stood at action stations at a northern base in Australia, and its members took part in some of the heavy raids on Dilli, in Dutch Timor, when ships and aircraft, as well as installations, supplies, and equipment were blasted by our bombs.