Chapter 5 Pacific Landing; 13 Hours Upstairs; Long Range From Darwin

PACIFIC LANDING

IT is 5 a.m. and you are approaching the coast of Borneo-misty and mysterious in the distance.

It is almost too dark to see. You wipe the sleep from your eyes.

Long lines of grey ships are plugging on relentlessly towards Balikpapan. What the opposition is going to be like you don't know. Nobody has thought about that very much. You were too busy living. Ship life was different from the usual run of things. You had been lining up in long queues for meals, for washing dishes, for showers (salt); hitting the cot pretty early most nights as there was no light; and spending the in-between times on cards, games of chess, swotting Malay, trying to wash clothes by throwing them overboard attached to rope and drying them on a ventilator shaft-that sort of a life.

And now the Day was upon you-suddenly somehow, notwithstanding the long preparations, the waiting for the convoy, the slow trip across. Now the ships drew closer to the shore.

You collect towels and grope down the deck minding the heavy chains holding vehicles fast to the deck of the landing ship; over the last lot of chains near the bridge, squeeze round some uprights, then down to the big door.

There is a lot of fumbling for the latches. You look back and see the dark coastline, the oil wells blazing up on the hill-tops, the shadowy lines of ships.

A wash of a sort and you are back for your eating doovers. More of the chaps are beginning to straggle out now. It's getting lighter. There is a queue already for breakfast and nobody is saying much, being still full of sleep.

A sailor on duty lets you through the big r singly so as not to show any light. Though the door, through two heavy curtains -collect a steaming breakfast; huddle on deck aft and put it away. There is a fresh wind blowing; you feel it as a cold hand on your face. Back to get your gear packed just in case then to the side to see what is doing.

Shelling from ships' guns is going on. Shells are tearing into the hillsides. The fires are getting bigger, shooting up great bursts of smoke and flame into the sky. Everything in the water seems to be firing. Bombing from aircraft, answering ack-ack. Still the shelling.

Silence.

The boys must be going into it now, pushing off in ducks, getting through the beach barricades, struggling up the hills. Shelling again, at targets farther back this time. More answering fire-shells and mortars. All day this continues. A gun on the hills starts to fire. First shot the ships have the range and they are covering the spot with smoke and flame as shell after shell bursts. Silence from that gun.
Strafing from aircraft. You can see them hover above and then come down in a big swoop. There's a rocket, then another! Circle above, form up again, dive down.

Your ship is creeping in to the shore now. You get a better idea of what the preparatory bombing and shelling has done to the town and its defences. You can see wrecked buildings; trees stripped of their green; broken lines of barriers on the seashore. More mortar-fire. It is landing all among the ships and you are scuttling back for a while. And then when you do come ashore, when the big mouth of the landing ship opens and you get off on to a pontoon, you can see what softening up means.

Not a building is untouched. Not one. Blackened trees, wreckage, fires. And already rebuilding-on the roads and bridges; already the terrific task of reorganizing. And it seems barely a few minutes before
you are under a truck dodging his shelling; and on the road again, and striking a camp, building yourselves.

Meanwhile blazing oil fires run down the hillsides; smoke and fire fill comers of the sky and roll across it like great thunder clouds. The ships and the planes are still on the job. Only the silences are noticeable.

More and more men are pouring ashore; the beaches are lined with landing craft. And all day long the noise of battle rolled.

FLIGHT-SERGEANT K. L. MURCHISON

THIRTEEN HOURS UPSTAIRS

To some individuals the title of this story might sound pleasant enough, but that's not what we're getting at. The thirteen hours we refer to require more than just concentration. They demand a sense of humour.

Imagine sitting on your - er, parachute for that length of time. Why, even the A.O.C. doesn't polish his pants for that long at a stretch. You begin to feel every button and hook, nay, every fold of silk through the padding. Of course that's the pilot's lot. He's the most hard-working man in the crew, anyway . . . . .. Eh? What's that you say, Bill?" . . . Pardon me, folks, but there's a lot of chatter going on over the I.C. Well, maybe you'd like to listen? . . .

O.K., but forgive me if I don't censor the swearing too well. You see, I've only learnt to swear since I've joined the Air Force and still don't know what some of the words mean....

"Hey! What's going on up there. Don't you taxi-drivers ever keep your phones on? I want some hot air. It's bloody cold down here."

"Captain to bombardier; now listen, Porky, don't shout over the I.C. And secondly address yourself as 'Bombardier to captain' so that I know who the hell's talking . . . and as for the hot air, you lump of blubber, you can damned well go without."

"Oh, pull your head in, Holliday - sorry, sir, captain, sir . . . It's freezing cold in this windy old tub and I didn't bring my pullover."

"Right-o, deeear, here's your hot air and next time Uncle Rexey will bring your pullover for you, you drip."

And so on. After a few minutes of this ribaldry the two of them become aware of a plaintive voice trying to get a word in edgeways.

"Navigator to captain; when you've finished your discussion would you alter course three degrees port, please?"

"Roger, Alan."

And from the rear .

"There he goes again, doing a creeping-line ahead. Why don't you keep a straight course, Gallstones? "

Then Ted the gunnery controller politely tells them to shut up and get some sleep as it will be a few hours before we reach Timor. But of course the pilots stay on the ball manfully working "George".

Later on a coastline looms out of the haze ahead. A few mountains poke their heads through the faint mist.

"Bombardier to navigator; Timor ahead, Alan. Pass down a map and I'll see if I can get a pin-point for you."

The voice again:

"You wouldn't know what trees or rivers look like, you bloody Sandgroper!"

Silence.

Then ... "Bombardier to captain; in defence of God's Own State, have I your permission to thrash the belly gunner?"

"To thrash the gunner's . . . ? Say again, bombardier."

"I said, 'To thrash the belly gunner'."

"Oh. Roger, bombardier."

In the stifling heat of the flight deck (the hot-air system cannot be regulated and whilst barely serving the windy compartments down the rear of the Lib., it roasts alive the flight deck inhabitants much to the chagrin of the under-privileged) flight engineer, Frank Marthias, leans forward and gently strokes the skipper's arm. (Now, chaps, I know what you're thinking but you're wrong.) He finds this gentle line of approach more satisfactory than, say, a vigorous tap (which he did once) which scares the daylights out of the hard concentrating skipper (and had his head chewed off for the offence).

Say, fellers . . . don't get the wrong idea. The rest of the crew are of some use. It's just that the pilot, well . . . Damn. There's Frank stroking me on the elbow. Shouts into my ear,

" HEY, REX, HOW ABOUT BOILING THE BILLY NOW ? "

"O.K., FRANK."

You see what I mean. Frank is quite useful as a cook. Now don't ask me what the rest of the crew does that is useful. Save the fifty dollar questions till later.

This billy boiling is just the shot. Frank made the gadget out of an old Pitot head. (Pitot head? Ask Charlie Lister, he'll tell you they're the gadgets on aircraft which don't work if you leave the covers on them.)

It's slow of course. But time's no essence. Up high the damn thing boils quicker than down low. We still haven't worked out whether or not it is worthwhile wasting juice to climb high so that the billy boils the quicker, then descend again, or to just sit and wait.

Of course, getting near the target, we reluctantly switch off "George" and tighten up the formation.

The rest of the crew, I believe, sit and look on with admiration at the way we pilots handle these great kites, tucked in wing tip to wing tip. And don't think we don't appreciate their feelings. We know they all wanted to be pilots but just didn't make the grade, poor chaps.

Perhaps a wee bit of ack-ack over the target area but nothing much; anyway it is something to put in our letters "There was the leader, wheels down and rolling along the tops of the ack-ack, it was so thick, etc. etc."-"Had my instrument lights on during formation, ack-ack was so intense, etc. etc."

Afterwards, nervous reaction sets in.

"Bombardier to captain; nature calls, sir. May I go down the back - of the aircraft? "

"Roger, Bill."

. . and proceed to wind on two degrees of nose-down trim to counter-balance the terrific surge of weight to the tail.

Open formation again homeward bound. Alan tries his hand (and feet if he remembers) at formation flying. Very rough of course - he's the navigator you'll remember and nearly makes the boys ill down the back.

Unbeknown to them I take over again and move in dangerously close to the leader. Alan chats away whilst I fly.

"This is good fun, chaps. Watch how close we can go."

Whereupon I skid-in in hair-raising fashion, even formating through some cloud-taking it in my stride of course.

"Hey, somebody, get that mad bastard out of there. Take him away before he kills the lot of us! Christ, Galler, you nearly HIT him then, keep out, you fool. I'll never fly in this bloody crew again as long as I live . . . and that won't be long. Rex! WHERE'S REX! (See how they always call to me when in trouble, my little sheep, my little flock) .

Come and drag this idiot away from the stick."

Poor Bill. He's married and has a child, bonny youngster too. We don't worry, however, Bill is insured.

Well, we're in the circuit area now (we arrived back within half an hour of Alan's E.T.A., which shows he's really improving), and I'm making a very nice approach on to the strip. ... Eh? What's that? ... "Oh, thanks, Percy."

That was my co-pilot telling me he was pulling off all the power as we'd already touched down.

Cheerio, folks.

FLIGHT-LIEUTENANT LEX HALLIDAY

LONG RANGE FROM DARWIN

THERE wasn't much excitement around Darwin in 1945. There wasn't much doing that everyone could know about right at the moment.

It was just hard slogging for both aircrews and ground staffs. As the Japanese were pushed farther and farther back on their home bases and earlier conquests, targets, even in the N.E.I., began to diminish and retreat.

However, despite this, aircraft based in north-western Australia played their part in the general offensive. Their work was not spectacular-it was just hard work. Right up to the time of the invasion of Borneo they played their part in every offensive. Theirs was a protective role, but the troops they were protecting seldom saw them because they were striking the enemy hundreds of miles away, preventing him providing his own hard-pressed garrisons with air support.

In Borneo 9th and 7th Division troops did see more of R.A.A.F. aircraft and many of them were aircraft which had supported them earlier. They had gone forward from northwestern Australia to advanced bases.

This work, and the interim strikes against Java and the Celebes, the tedious shipping searches over hundreds of miles of ocean and the stealthy night laying of mines in enemy harbours, all called for long-range aircraft. So, towards the end of 1944, Spitfires, Beauforts and Beaufighters began to move out. Liberators, assisted by Mitchells, moved in. The Catalinas remained on the job.

Early in 1945 the first heavy bomber wing formed by the R.A.A.F. in Australia began to operate from north-western Australia.

The advent of this formation coincided with a Japanese attempt to push a lot of shipping into the islands of the N.E.I., perhaps to evacuate troops or to feed them. This gave the R.A.A.F. crews flying Liberators, Mitchells and Venturas the opportunity of showing their worth. They responded magnificently. In the first half of 1945, 61 Japanese ships went to the bottom and a further 182 were damaged.

Late in January two Liberators achieved for the R.A.A.F. one of the most spectacular and daring successes of the war in the Pacific.

After weeks of careful planning and ceaseless training, crews, captained by Group Captain Derek Kingwell, of Brisbane (Q.), the wing commanding officer, and Flight Lieutenant Bill Kirkwood, of Parramatta (N.S.W.), flew almost two and a half thousand miles to shatter important hydro-electric power installations in Japanese-controlled Java.

Known as the Kali-Konto system, the power-houses at Siman and Mendalin supplied the whole of south-east Java with electricity. The large Japanese naval base at Sourabaya relied to a considerable extent on these installations for its light and power supply.

The good work done by these two crews was finished off a few days later by another formation of Liberators from the same wing, led this time by Wing-Commander Russell Bell, of Darling Point (N.S.W.).

Earlier in the month U.S. Liberators had turned on their farewell performance. Topping the bill with a beautiful piece of precision bombing they had wiped out a battery of heavy coastal guns on the west coast of Lombok Island. So accurate was their bombing that the centre gun of the emplacement suffered a direct hit and was blown to pieces.

February and March were months of activity. Flying on patrols designed to search out enemy shipping Liberators: were bringing back reports of vessels being pushed farther and farther east. The Japs were obviously taking advantage of bad weather, which gave them plenty of cloud cover, to do something about their strung-out garrisons. They were sneaking their ships into the larger N.E.I. ports, off-loading into smaller wooden vessels, and by that means trying to dash into the smaller islands, hoping to get through.

But suddenly they were struck at by the R.A.A.F. Liberators, Mitchells: and Venturas were mounted in ceaseless attacks.

The daily reports made good reading in those days. Instead of single aircraft going out to see what was about, groups of half a dozen were taking off early in the morning. They would be back for a late tea that night, but the Japs would not.

The crews had a pretty good idea where they would find a few ships and it didn't take long to set them aflame or blast them apart before they sank.

Although Liberators were designed for high-level bombing, R.A.A.F. crews were using these aircraft for mast-height attacks and strafing. Many a Jap seaman must have been amazed to see a four-engined heavy bomber roaring in at 400 feet with machine guns spouting lead at his boat.

In those two months forty-three Jap ships were sunk and seventy-seven damaged.

February and March were also months in which Venturas flashed into the picture. For months they had been doing routine patrol work, covering convoys and generally playing a necessary but unspectacular and uninteresting part.

With Jap shipping within range the Ventura crews were brought into the game, and they made their entrance with a vengeance. Flying on armed recces they penetrated right to the heart of the N.E.I., sinking and burning shipping and also attacking land targets.

Flight-Lieutenant A. S. ("Scotty") Little, of Mornington (S.A.), had two shots at a steel and concrete bridge on Soembawa Island. The first was just a "sighter" as he only had one bomb left at the time. But a couple of days later he went back and this time his bombardier put two bombs right under the bridge. A large crack appeared across the centre and the bridge was knocked out of position when the Ventura left for home.

April saw the Japs really worried. They sent a cruiser with a strong naval and air escort to Timor. For two days R.A.A.F. Mosquitoes and Catalinas shadowed this force. Then just after it left Timor, loaded with personnel, it was attacked.

R.A.A.F. Liberators and Mitchells and Dutch Mitchells, under R.A.A.F. orders, made the attacks. Four direct hits were scored on the cruiser, apparently without inflicting anything more than superficial damage. The warship maintained its course and speed, but next day was sunk by Allied submarines.

The attack on the cruiser cost us two Liberators and a Catalina.

Catalinas were used in this mission for rescue work and as a result of the heroic efforts of their crews some of the airmen shot down in the Liberators were saved.

For their rescue work Flight-Lieutenants R. M. Corrie, of Manly (N.S.W.), and C. R. Bulman, of Lockleys (S.A.), received immediate D.F.Cs and Flight-Sergeant (now Warrant-Officer) A. J. Scholes, of Bendigo (V.), an immediate D.F.M.

The Japs lost one fighter and probably two others as a result of their interception.

Throughout the year R.A.A.F. aircraft based in north-western Australia were allotted the unspectacular work of harassing enemy aerodromes. Uneventful and, to the crews, tiresome as this work is, the results obtained were of considerable assistance to the general assault on the Japanese.

As Allied forces advanced through Dutch New Guinea and into Morotai and the Americans took the war against the Japs right into the Philippines and beyond, it was obvious that the left flank of the advance had to be protected. The Japanese had appreciable concentrations of aircraft in the N.E.I. and Malaya. With airfields scattered about the Celebes, Borneo, Western New Guinea, Ambon and the other islands between New Guinea and the Celebes, and also in the Halmaheras, the enemy was in a favourable position to mount attacks against our bases at Morotai and Biak.

Our spearheads thrusting deeper and deeper into his lines were also vulnerable. It was not even necessary-for him to base his aircraft on these strips . He merely had to fly them in from the N.E.I., refuel, strike our bases and get out again. The R.A.A.F. in north-western Australia was given the task of preventing this.

American B24s, operating under R.A.A.F. control, were early used in strikes against the airstrips at Amahai, Liang, Laha and Namlea in the Ceram-Ambon group and also against aerodromes in the southern Celebes. These came in for close attention late in 1944. Runways were cratered and dispersal areas and barracks hit hard at Ambesia, Kendari, Boroboro, Limboeng and Malimpoeng.

The Japs were now having their sleep interrupted by aircraft "sitting" over their 'dromes all night, dropping an occasional bomb and a load of beer bottles.

The Australian invasion of Borneo in April, and subsequent operations, gave northwestern Australian aircraft more work. Once again it was necessary to keep the Japs from using their nearby airfields for raids against the invaders. Much of the credit for the freedom these operations enjoyed from aerial interference was due to the work of R.A.A.F. Liberator and Catalina crews. Flying endless hours day and night, they kept grounded what aircraft the enemy did have available.

It was not until the Borneo operations that Catalinas were brought on to this night harassing work, with a rather amusing result. The Japs had become used to the length of time the Liberators hung about and on the first night a Catalina was used on came the lights when that time had expired. A couple of bombs hurtled down on to the brilliantly illuminated target and the puzzled Jap had to douse his lights again.

Daylight bombing attacks were also launched against aerodromes in the south-west and south-east Celebes.

So much did this harassing worry the Jap that he brought aircraft into Timor. Either these were to be used against Darwin itself or it was a desperate attempt to bomb the Morotai base. Whatever the aim, it was not successful. R.A.A.F. Liberators and R.A.F. Spitfires dashed the enemy's hopes in a few minutes of bombing and strafing. The enemy was discovered on the Cape Chater strip by a R.A.A.F. Mosquito on a photo-recce mission.

Liberators from north-western Australia used Morotai as an advanced base prior to and during the Borneo operations. From here they joined U.S. forces in bombing Japanese installations.

Working quietly, and not at all spectacularly, R.A.A.F. Catalinas and Mosquitoes carried out some of the most important work done by R.A.A.F. crews in this war.

Mosquitoes did their work from a base in Australia, but the Catalinas found it necessary to operate thousands of miles from their home waters.

To seek out the enemy, track down his movements and provide the data for target maps Mosquito crews flew thousands of miles. Their super-spy activities provided bombers from this and other areas with all the necessary details to pin-point targets.

Catalina flying boats, or "Black Cats", as they have become known, are the maids-of-all-work of the R.A.A.F. They have been used successfully for practically every type of aerial work. Perhaps their most successful role has been that of minelayers.

Japanese shipping at Sourabaya was feeling the effects of this silent work of the Cats early in the year. So successful were these operations that the Catalinas were switched to mining the waters about the Philippines prior to the American invasion. They actually mined Manila Bay as a prelude to the landing at Mindoro. With the capture of the Philippines, R.A.A.F. Catalinas were brought in to mine the China coast. Here they again met with considerable success.

Japanese shipping was using Hainan Strait between Hainan Island and the mainland as a sea lane. If their ships were forced to circumnavigate Hainan Island they would be within range of U.S. bombers and Allied submarines. So the Cats went in at night to mine Hainan Strait. It was a routine job for the crews but so many Jap ships were forced out to be sunk by bombs and torpedoes that it was not long before the enemy found another supply route cut. In these operations the Black Cats "planted" their mines along the whole stretch of Chinese coast from Amoy (opposite Formosa) to Hainan.

At this stage of the war perhaps it would be interesting to quote a few figures showing the extent of operations from north-western Australia. They are complete to June 30th, 1945 and date from the establishment of Northwestern Area as an operational command.

Enemy Shipping	Destroyed	Probably destroyed	Damaged
	142		249
Enemy Aircraft
	485	91	199
Our losses due to direct enemy action have totalled 111 aircraft.

FLYING-OFFICER IAN STEWART