Chapter 11 Burma's Story; Burma Taxi Run; Pussa Duck

BURMA'S STORY

THERE were no dams to burst, no battleships to sink, no great industrial works to devastate. Akyab, Bangkok and Mandalay had been knocked out by steady bombing. There were only those scattered pinpoints on the great map of Burma and India.

The pinpointed targets were small, but strategically important. even if they didn't make the headlines. Photo-recces and army intelligence plotted them - small villages, Jap staging camps, and dumps that were vitally important. There was the constant battle of supplies-sampans and native shipping, river craft, railway communications, and oil dumps to be sought out, strafed and bombed. But the British press had labelled the Burma front the "forgotten" theatre.

Australians had heard little about the gallant band of 1,000 airmen who were operating in India, Burma and Ceylon.

It was at the beginning of 1944, following on the appointment of Admiral Lord Louis Mountbatten to the post of Supreme Commander in South-east Asia, that the Allied air forces in India began to assert themselves. Wellingtons, which had so far done all the heavy bombing, were given strong support. Blenheims, which had done an incredible job, had vanished, and in their place came large numbers of Liberators, while the pinpoint bombing was assigned to Vultee Vengeance dive bombers. The Hurricanes, which had carried the burden of patrol and combat,

were switched to army co-operation. The Spitfires, which had already made their appearance in Burma during the campaign in the Arakan, became our front-line protective and aggressive fighters in the area. Beaufighters had made their appearance, causing tremendous damage and wreaking havoc among the Japanese. Finally their lightweight sisters, the Mosquitoes, joined them in spectacular hunts for bridges, trains, and troop concentrations.

The Japanese land forces had made sudden alarming moves. They had encircled the Seventh Division of the Fourteenth Army and their aircraft were attempting to solidify their positions and prevent our supply-dropping aircraft from getting through. They sent over powerful fighter sweeps, often in the ratio of ten to one, against our intercepting aircraft.

On Boxing Day, 1943, the Japanese met Spitfires for the first time and the results were tragic for the raiders. On New Year's Eve a medium-sized escorted bomber formation was completely destroyed near St Martin's Island. Worried at the success of the Spitfires, the Japanese began to send over sweeps of a hundred or more fighters, but again they were mowed down relentlessly by Spitfires. On January 15 one squadron alone destroyed six, damaged five, and probably destroyed one, and another squadron destroyed five, probably destroyed two, and damaged two. That was a great day for the Australians, for, of these totals, they destroyed seven, probably destroyed one. and damaged five.

Australians who have distinguished themselves as fighter pilots in India include Squadron-Leader M. C. C. Cotton, D.F.C., of Broken Hill (N.S.W.), the late Squadron Leader D. W. McCormack, D.F.C. and Bar, of Seddon (V.), commanding the famous "Churchill's Own" squadron, and Wing Commander Noel Constantine, of Albury (N.S.W.), commanding officer of one of the squadrons in the Arakan and later in charge of Air Fighter Tactics Air Command.

Australian aircrews, trained under the Empire Air Training Scheme, had already made a name for themselves in this theatre. The first bomber squadron to go into operation in Burma, two years before, was a Blenheim Squadron, and its crews were 6o per cent Australian. Another squadron, the C.O. of which was the late Wing-Commander Harley C. Stumm, D.F.C., Queensland Rhodes Scholar, was known as the "Australian Squadron in the R.A.F." because of its preponderance of R.A.A.F. aircrew, which at one stage amounted to go per cent. This squadron also performed magnificently, but later, when it changed to single-engined aircraft, its personnel were dispersed.

In those critical days of 1942, the Blenheim squadrons, heavily outnumbered, were reduced to a mere handful of aircraft, but only after doing a dogged holding job for the Allies. Wellingtons gradually replaced the battered Blenheims, and carried on the bombing until early in 1944, when Liberators were introduced in large numbers. Many Australians were employed in these squadrons, and they proved their value, both in operations and in squadron activities. One Wellington squadron had no fewer than fifty-nine Australians. Its commanding officer was Wing-Commander D. J. French, D.F.C. and Bar, of Brighton (V.), the first Australian in this war to be awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross.

Many of the Australians in the early Blenheim squadrons converted to Vultee Vengeance dive bombers, whose deadly accuracy was responsible for the destruction of many machine-gun posts, bridges, oil dumps, installations and troop concentrations. The late Flight-Lieutenant J. W. Sandilands, D.F.C., of Uralla (N.S.W.), one of the most experienced Vultee Vengeance pilots in India, once put the Japanese radio station at Akyab out of commission, and dive-bombed an ammunition dump, blowing it up. A well-known, Vultee squadron, with many Australians, among its crews, was the celebrated "Shaibah" squadron.

During the past year, Mosquitoes have been introduced into the South-east Asia Air Command, and the first Australian to fly one in operations in India was Flying-Officer A. G. McKenzie, of Norseman, W.A. The combination of Mosquitoes and Beaufighters. proved a veritable thorn in the side of the Japs, who have lost much equipment and, thousands of lives to these deadly strafers. It was not until after the monsoons that the Mosquitoes were used to any great extent and the bulk of the low-level attacks was, left to the Beaufighters.

The first Beaufighter squadron in India was~, commanded by a Point Cook trainee, Wing Commander H. C. Daish, formerly of Hay, (N.S.W.). One of his flight-commanders was. Flight-Lieutenant R. A. Swift, D.F.C., of' Killara (N.S.W.). This squadron, which began operations in December 1942, became known as "The Train Busters", and in its first six months of operations accounted for more than fifty locomotives.

One of the most spectacular engagements, recorded by the squadron was one in which Swift and another Australian, Flight-Lieutenant D. J. Innes, of Auburn (N.S.W.), were briefed for an attack on enemy shipping. Suddenly emerging from the clouds above Pyinmana, Swift saw a ceremonial' parade of Japanese. No attention was paid, to the Beaufighter. Swift made a wide turn and approached a second time, flying low and diagonally across the parade. This time, as he made his pass, he blazed away with his. four cannons and eight machine guns. The parade broke up in wild disorder and casualties were heavy. A few days later, Swift strafed and set fire to the Yethaga oil refineries.

In October of last year, Warrant-Officer (since commissioned) Trigwell was engaged in strafing in the Kyauktaw-Niyohaung area and a reconnaissance of Akyab Island when he was wounded in the neck and face by machine-gun fire. His vision was temporarily impaired, but with the help of his navigator (Flying-Officer Dobson, R.A.F.) he was able to bring about a fine piece of work by landing at Cox's Bazaar.

One of the younger pilots, Pilot-Officer Clegg, did some very useful work, and his destruction of the steamer Shwelan was a fine effort. Innes's total of locomotives destroyed is still one of the highest in the squadron. The efficient cameras on the Beaufighters and the squadron's photographic section were also to his credit.

The C.O. of this squadron after Wing Commander Daish was Wing-Commander J. B. Nicholson, the first R.A.F. fighter pilot of this war to be awarded the V.C., and a later but experienced flight-commander was Squadron-Leader G. W. N. Bassingthwaighte, D.F.C. (known as "B.16" because of the large number of letters in his name), of Jandowie (Q.). He had previously done a tour of operations on Blenheims in Burma, during which he won the D.F.C., and he had since developed a penchant for railway engines, his score steadily mounting.

Another Beaufighter squadron had accounted for its hundredth locomotive by March of this year.

During the six months ended March 3 1, 1944, it had the following record:
- Made 538 sorties;
- Expended hundreds of thousands of rounds of .5 and .303 ammunition;
- Taken 21miles of photographic film (three months only);
- Damaged 104 locomotives (many of these were completely destroyed),
- 128 motor transports (many were destroyed),
- 47 powered craft, such as steamers, barges, etc.,
- 33 smaller craft (sunk or set on fire), and
- 837 sampans, while
- seven aircraft were destroyed on the ground and one damaged.

Pilot-Officer R. K. Cameron, of 49 Mount Street, Perth, on March 14, 1944, became the first Australian to attack Siam from India when, with his navigator (Pilot-Officer H. Marshall, R.A.F.) he strafed an enemy aerodrome at Chiengmai, and, in addition to shooting up the area, destroyed a twin engined aircraft in a pen. Pilot-Officer R. S. Horwood, of Unley (S.A.), has specialized in strafing locomotives, and on February ig this year, on the Lashio-Mandalay line, destroyed a double-headed Garrett heavy mountain-type locomotive, reputed to be the heaviest of its class in the world.

One of the squadron's most spectacular strafing, however, was the Thegong Pumping Station, near Prome, on March 14, when Warrant-Officer D. M. Anderson (since commissioned), of Swanbourne (W.A.), with several others, set out for this target. This was located, well camouflaged, and to all appearances an ordinary basha hut with an open water tank adjacent. The presence of several black patches on the ground, however, indicated oil, so Anderson went into action at 25o feet, not only setting the open oil tank ablaze but also one inside the hut.

Immediately there was a terrific explosion and dense clouds of thick smoke, tinged with orange, filled the air. As the oil continued burning, the smoke rose higher and higher, and when the Beaufighters were on their way home, the smoke was visible for many miles.

Beaufighters have consistently annoyed the enemy along the Irrawaddy River, and at Toungoo, Sagaing, Thityabin, Kyaukpyu, Sandaway, Monywa, Yenangyuang, Kokkogon, Mandalay, Yethaga, Chaung, Kawlin, Maymyo, Kanhla, Yeni, and many other places in northern, central and southern Burma.

Wellingtons, too, have played a great part in hammering these targets. In February 1944, a programme of daylight precision bombing, as well as night sorties, was carried out. Engaged in close army co-operation in the Arakan section, and carrying 4000-Pound blockbusters, the squadron was highly successful. This was followed by a regular series of bombing raids in North Burma, escorted by Spitfires. As a result of accurate bombing, the Imphal-Tiddim road was blocked in many places, Japanese supply dumps were wrecked, and their communications were badly damaged.

After having bombed the Victoria Lake supply dumps on the night of April 9, Flight Sergeant Brady, of Ascot (Q.), with Flight Sergeant Deester, of Bradfield Park (N.S.W.) (since reported missing, believed killed) as navigator, and two R.A.F. and one R.C.A.F. in his crew, corkscrewed his aircraft away from the target when Deester sighted enemy aircraft astern.

Almost immediately Staff-Sergeant Munro, the Canadian rear gunner, gave a shout as cannon shells exploded in the rear turret. He gave an immediate correction to starboard but another enemy aircraft attacked, wounding Sergeant Wood, the R.A.F. bomb-aimer. The aircraft was now badly damaged, the hydraulics being out of action, the starboard tailplane riddled with bullets, the front fuselage near the pilot badly damaged, and the port engine rattling.

Brady, who was advised of his commissioning in May of this year, and was reported missing, believed killed, a month later, saw a patch of cloud ahead, so put the nose down and dived steeply into the cloud, losing the enemy aircraft.

Course was set for the Arakan coast with bomb doors hanging down, no air-speed indicator, and with the port engine out of commission. The wounds of the rear gunner included severe lacerations to the left arm and hand, and the bomb aimer was wounded in the left shoulder. The aircraft eventually reached the coast, losing height all the time, and miraculously reached Chittagong where Brady made a remarkable and skilful belly landing.

One of the best efforts of this squadron was on May 8 of this year when word was received from the Fourteenth Army that it was vital that the village of Ningthoukhong be completely destroyed. With other aircraft of the Strategic Air Force, the squadron dealt drastically with the village, wiping it out completely. Flying-Officer A. E. Graham, of East Hawthorn, with an American general on board, was the first to attack, and his bomb aimer, Flight-Sergeant G. K. Humphries, of Murwillumbah (N.S.W.), scored a direct hit with his 4,000-Pound block-buster.

Eulogizing the work of the Australians on a sister Wellington squadron, the C.O. referred to the absence of any glamour on bombing raids in Burma, and added: "Results to the crews themselves must be disappointing; there are seldom the violent explosions and enormous fires which prove so encouraging in other theatres. Very often there are no fires or anything that can give a hint that the job has been well done. Without any doubt these attacks which have appeared so unspectacular have played an enormous part in crippling the Japanese effort in Burma. Vital stores have been destroyed, reinforcements have been delayed, aircraft have been set on fire before they could leave the ground, and even artificial landslides have been created to block a vital supply line."

An excellent effort by the squadron was on January 12 this year, when Flight-Sergeant H. G. Leslie, of Adamstown, Newcastle (N.S.W.), dropped a stick of bombs right across the main runway at Mingaladon and set fire to aircraft standing in nearby dispersals. On March 6 Leslie was again on the spot, his bombs falling across the runway of the aerodrome at Heho. Most of the Australians in the squadron participated in this raid.

Thousands of pounds' worth of military supplies were destroyed a little later at Insein, and during May the squadron was directed to block the Tiddim-Imphal road, the main supply line of the Japanese Thirty-third Division.

This road was being used to rush up troops and supplies to the Imphal Plain.

Warrant-Officer K. Sorohan, of Bowen (Q.), together with Pilot Officer E. R. Garbutt, of Townsville (Q.), Warrant-Officers H. T. O'Neill, of Canberra, and G. D. Kenman, of Dayborough (Q.), took part in this raid which resulted in a landslide, completely blocking the road.

In further daylight attacks on May 8 and 9 the squadron combined with the Army in wiping out a strong concentration of Japanese troops at Ningthoukhong, south of Imphal, and nearly thirty-five tons of bombs were dropped in six minutes.

Liberator squadrons have plastered similar targets, mostly at night-time, and Australians, numbering several hundreds, have been conspicuous for their work thereon. Squadron-Leader J. E. Morphett of Glenelg (S.A.), received a Bar this year to his D.F.C. for his skilful piloting, following a raid on an enemy target in Burma. Before base could be reached, Morphett found it necessary to order all crew
to bale out, and when the others had baled out, the aircraft had lost height to such an extent that he was unable to do anything but attempt to make a forced landing in the dark.

Morphett made a valiant effort, but in so doing, he sustained a fractured skull and two fractured ankles. The lives of his crew, how-ever, were saved, and the aircraft, though badly damaged, was repaired and made serviceable.

Another example of gallantry was that of Flight-Sergeant (now Pilot-Officer) Frank Knowles Harker, of 29 Howe Street, Lambton, Newcastle (N.S.W.). His work earned for him a Command Mention in which the Air Commander-in-Chief (Sir Richard Peirse, K.C.B., D.S.O., A.F.C.) said: "Flight-Sergeant Harker was detailed as captain of an aircraft to attack Bangkok from an advance landing ground. Whilst flying towards the target and well east of the Irrawaddy, No. i engine failed through what later proved to be a mechanical defect. The captain feathered the engine and attacked Prome successfully. He then decided -to set course for base on three engines although this involved a sea-crossing of some 300 miles. His reason for this was that he did not wish to risk landing the aircraft on a dark night on a strange aerodrome, which would possibly mean leaving the aircraft there for enemy aircraft to strafe at a later date.

"The base aerodrome was finally reached on three engines. Whilst the first approach to land was being made with undercarriage down and full flap, No. 3 engine failed completely. The aircraft swung to nearly 90 degrees to the flare path and lost height to 150 feet before control was regained by employing full aileron and rudder.

"In this state this N.C.O. completed, on a dark night, a new circuit on two engines and successfully landed his aircraft with no damage to the aircraft or crew.

"By his skilful flying and courage, this airman undoubtedly saved a valuable crew and aircraft from injury or destruction."

Whether engaged on the heavy Liberators, the medium Wellingtons, the light Blenheims and Bisleys, Beaufighters or Mosquitoes, the Vultee Vengeance dive bombers, or Spitfires or the Hurribombers, Australian airmen have attacked with determination and skill, and won for themselves the commendation of their commanding officers and the esteem of their fellow aircrews from Great Britain and the sister Dominions.

BURMA TAXI RUN

IN the afternoon clouds built up over the jungle-thick Burmese hills. During the monsoons rain dripped from the towering grey canopy into the steamy greenery below, collecting in spreading marshes along the lowlands of the tangled terrain, rushing down the steep hillsides in swift streams difficult to cross. This was the country which hid the British troops probing into Japanese-occupied northern Burma, proving that white troops could meet defeat and outwit the Japanese in the tricky game of jungle warfare. There were no roads, railways or river highways to supply these troops, especially the Chindits of the late Major-General Wingate's second commando expedition. This expeditionary force was kept supplied by R.A.F. Dakota "biscuit bombers", many of them flown by Australian crews.

The Dakotas were on the job in all kinds of tropical weather, dropping food, munitions, equipment and other essentials. Frequently the pilots used temporary, inadequate strips hacked out of the so that they could unload sorely needed mules, ponies, cattle and jeeps. On the return trips they took off wounded and sick for base hospitals.

When the Fifth and Seventh Divisions of the Fourteenth Army were temporarily encircled by the Japs early this year food supplies were dropped daily by the squadron.

Flight-Lieutenant Frank Austin, a grazier from Corowa, N.S.W., and two wireless-air gunners, Flying-Officer McLaren and Warrant-Officer M. B. Todd, a Croydon draughtsman, are believed to be the first airmen to move cattle by air into Burmese territory. Great difficulties were encountered during initial stages. The cattle were walked into the aircraft, and the Australians had then to exercise their knowledge of handling stock by throwing the beasts. That was the hardest task of all. It was not accomplished without excitement and danger.

Fortunately this system did not operate for long. Cattle were later walked into the aircraft to stand between stout bamboo poles. At the same time the animals were lashed to prevent damage to the plane through stray kicks. The cattle's snow-white hides had to be camouflaged. They were turned into dusky brunettes by the application of permanganate of potash. Time and weather at their new location, however, eventually restored the natural colour.

All States are represented in this Dakota squadron. There is Flight-Lieutenant Vesey J. Allen, Broken Hill (N.S.W.); Flying-Officers Percy L. Payne, East Brisbane (Q.); James V. Sim, Brighton (V.); John H. Biden, North Sydney (N.S.W.); Evan J. Richardson, Grafton (N.S.W.); Warrant-Officers Stan Hyland, Toorak (V.); Thomas E. Offord, Rivervale (W.A.); and Flight-Sergeant Dick Murr, Monto

When the Japanese overran Burma in 1942, one R.A.F. squadron of D.C.2S made hundreds of flights over the Chin Hills, landed on short narrow strips and took off with as many as forty evacuees, mostly women and children, for India. Frequently the loads were considerably overweight but the daring pilots took off, the undercarriage of their aircraft often brushing the tops of trees.

Supplies had to be maintained to troops and civilians remaining and all the ingenuity of aircrews was employed. In most cases the dropping fields were only seventy yards by fifty yards and were walled in by hills. The pilots had to climb high over the hills, glide gently in to drop supplies and then make a steep climb to avoid crashing into the hills. This was a daily procedure.

Three Australians, Flying-Officers Stanley C. Akers, of Essendon, and Ralph Hauser, of Glen Iris, and Pilot-Officer Alfred R. Perkins, of Semaphore (S.A.), were mentioned in dispatches for their work during this campaign.

Flying-Officer Hauser returned to Australia recently and told some of the adventures and hardships experienced by Dakota crews. He was one of sixteen members of the R.A.A.F. attached to the R.A.F. in India at the end of their training in Rhodesia and he took part in the Burma campaign from the initial Japanese attack. He also took part in the evacuation of the British forces after the fall of Rangoon and was one of the pilots of the "biscuit bombers" which supplied Wingate's second expedition behind the Japanese lines.

Hauser flew transport planes right through the campaign. Typical of the fame won by the transport pilots was the recent tribute of an American General: "Sufficient praise cannot be given to the courage of these pilots, whose task it was to fly with unarmed aircraft in close proximity to an enemy frontier over mountainous country in weather conditions which were frequently appalling."

"Our first job was to help out the British Army when the Japs attacked and made straight for Rangoon," Flying-Officer Hauser said. "We took arms and supplies and returned with wounded. Once we brought out fifty-eight, mainly women and children, in our D-C.3- We piled them in everywhere. Naturally, they did not have any luggage, only the clothes they stood up in.

"Until 1942, we were operating from Myltkyina drome. On the day it fell to the Japs we landed to pick up as many as we could. It was just before the enemy bombed the place. In our excitement to get away before the raid, but after the alarm had gone, we left one of our wing-commanders behind. One of our chaps returned later and picked him up."

Hauser said that the first supply-dropping of the Burma war was to General Alexander's forces when they were holding the Japs along the Burma Road, near Lashio. On one occasion they dropped 10,000 rupees to the troops so they could buy food in native villages. Every bag split open and there was a shower of silver. Parachutes were not then used. Cotton parachutes were the first to be tried, and methods were improved as the importance of supply-dropping became apparent.

"At one stage we had to supply a small British garrison which held out at Fort Hertz, in the hills near the source of the Irrawaddy River," Hauser continued. "Members of the force built a tiny strip just big enough for the transports to land. They brought elephants alongside the planes and piled the supplies straight on to the animals. Each elephant was able to carry 350 pounds and take it fifteen to twenty miles through the jungle in a day."

Similar methods were used with the Wingate expedition, which got within a few miles of the China border before it returned when the monsoon period set in.

Monsoonal conditions invariably effect India's transport, whether rail or road. In war these have to be surmounted and frequently air travel has to be made. A R.A.F. squadron was formed for monsoonal flying. Its first C.O. was Wing-Commander A. C. Pearson, D.F.C., of the Argentine, whose father, the late Charles Pearson, was an Australian and captained the Essendon football team many years ago. On July 1, 1943, the squadron was engaged on the vital but unspectacular work of transporting passengers and freight to all parts of India-to Ceylon, Rawalpindi, Calcutta and Karachi. Occasionally planes had to go as far as Cairo.

Later, the squadron went to north India for training. During this period most of the Australians made a voluntary jump by parachute. In February 1944 the squadron, under Brigadier-General W. Old's command, went to Bengal and soon Taung Bazaar, Maungithaung, Ngankedauk Pass and other Burmese towns were familiar sights to the squadron. Sometimes they dropped supplies while our ground forces were actually engaged with the enemy. Occasionally the Japanese would divert their fire to the Dakotas.

During a Japanese attack last March an entire section of the squadron was switched to the Imphal section. There the squadron had three simultaneous jobs to do: help in the maintenance of the Chindits in Burma; supply the forces around Kohima; and continue to supply Arakan. The crews were kept busy but they had the satisfaction of seeing results for their hard labour when completely air supplied forces captured Mogaung, cleared the Naga Hills around Kohima, and reopened the Imphal-Dimapur road.

PUSSA DUCK

0NE day in the closing weeks of 1941 walked up the gangway of H.M.A.S. ******* saluted the quarterdeck, and tossed my kitbag on board. I was one of the "new blokes". A group of sailors stood below looking towards the bridge of the ship saying, "Things don't look too good." While they
had been on leave, from which they had been unexpectedly recalled, the ship's bridge had been reinforced with concrete. Jap leaders were in conference with U.S.A. heads in America. Still, there was that concrete around the bridge! That was on Friday. We went off on leave until Saturday morning and expected to be off for the week-end. But on Saturday morning early we pulled out into the stream,
our Seagull alighted alongside and was hoisted on deck. On the evening of that day we stood watching the lights of our home city go out as we ploughed into the open sea.

On the way to Java our Pussa Duck went out on observation and put down at Koepang. To the crew's amazement the plane was received by guards with fixed bayonets, and its members stood up alongside the aircraft. It was only when the pilot, Flying-Officer Stacey (since missing), was able to call out to a British officer who had by chance walked out from a building on the drome that our fellows were released. The British officer explained that the natives had been warned to look out for Japanese aircraft and seeing this peculiar specimen of the flying service were certain that their visitors were of questionable type.

We hoisted them on board again at sea as we proceeded towards Batavia and then to Singapore. We carried with us the First Member of Navy Board, Sir Guy Royle. Drawing into Singapore our fellows looked at H.M.S. Prince of Wales and the Repulse and openly envied the men who manned the Prince. It was somewhere between the two British ships that we anchored.

As we lay there in the darkness of the early hours of December 8, an air-raid action alarm brought us from our beds, clambering on deck under our tin hats with Mae Wests slung over our shoulders.

We searche4 the sky. The whole place was in quietness. Maybe, we thought, it was a false alarm. I stood by a petty officer the others called Robbie, and questioned him on the point. I liked Robbie. He had served in the last war, and his Sunday suit carried an extended row of ribbons. At daylight action stations he never failed to have, tucked under his arm, an old telescope. Through this we satisfied our curiosity when ships appeared over the horizon. But he did not have it with him this night, or we did not think so. You would not expect one to be looking through a telescope in the dark. Robbie himself said so in answer to a jibe. And so we waited.

Nervously I asked, "What do you think is on?" Robbie answered that it looked like a "blinkin' air raid".

"Do you think it could be a practice?" I ventured hopefully.

Then there was an announcement. A formation of aircraft, believed to be enemy, was approaching in the direction of the city. Shortly sirens all over the place set up a weird wall, and searchlights shooting into the sky from a multitude of directions caught in their beams the tiny specks of planes. As they came nearer, bombs exploded over on Johore somewhere behind the Sultan's palace.

"That conference in America must be over," commented the petty officer.

There were further explosions, this time closer, but muffled in the rumble of antiaircraft fire. There was a complete black-out in the harbour, but lights were on in town. We could see them from the ship. Tracer bullets were lost in the brilliant searchlights that held the invaders until they had passed out of sight. Then suddenly the lights shot across the sky again and caught another formation following in the track of the first. It could have been a fireworks display in Sydney Harbour on New Year's Eve, except that the illumination was confined principally to the stratosphere. Seeing it for the first time, it was exciting. From somewhere near at hand Robbie produced his telescope, as the formation was brightly illuminated. In answer to a question as to what they looked like, he muttered. "I don't like them." They passed over without breaking formation, dropping bombs at random where they would do the least damage.

On our way towards Rangoon, to pour troops and war materials into that port, we spent some sleepless nights as our guns held the range of every ship that appeared along the Malay straits. Our Pussa Duck was out on patrol, as our anxiety was heightened by word of the sinking of H.M.S. Prince of Wales and the Repulse.

Amusing incidents occur even in the most distressing of times. Something of the sort took place as we passed Penang. The city was being bombed from the air. Our corporal 2A was perched up on our Pussa Duck refuelling, preparatory to an order to "out aircraft". The petrol was flowing into the tank when enemy planes were observed to be coming over us from the stem. An action alarm sent all members to their stations and those not in gun crews or immediately on duty, to cover. Consequently the corporal was left momentarily alone perched on the Seagull with petrol of high octane still flowing into the tank, while the ship was twisting and plunging full speed ahead with guns trailing on the blokes above.

A shout came from the corporal-"For godsake somebody turn the petrol off and let me down! "-as a vulture-like object climbed to a high altitude immediately above the ship.

My companion, the petty officer, was staring through his telescope into the sky and fumbling with one hand at some strings at his waist.

"Putting your Mae West on?" I asked.

"My -- oath!" he answered, dropping his telescope, and rushing to turn off the aircraft petrol cock.

Well, we made Rangoon, and rounded the Bay of Bengal. We went backwards and forwards to and from ports on our mission. Our old Seagull went out by day on its observations, preceded convoys to harbour and left ahead of us as we turned to sea on our lone vigil. That was the way it was on Christmas Day, 1941- In our memories we would hold dear those parting flashes from commodores of convoys we had safely delivered-"Our thanks, good luck and good hunting." Maybe some of us will see them again, some day, soon.

SERGEANT FRANK SMYTH