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On
Active Service: a
range of books about the 3 Services in W W 2. A
Digger History
site. |
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This page
is part of the book "On
Guard with the Volunteer Defence Corps" |
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NGVR: Jonah Has Marched Out:
Too Real
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ALTHOUGH Most of the operations of the New Guinea Volunteer Rifles were necessarily cloaked by
military secrecy, the scope and importance of operations conducted by this unit provided a perfect example of the way in which any Home Guard or V.D.C. organization would function under the actual conditions of war.
The N.G.V.R. was essentially a "spare-time training organization" made up of civilians employed in New Guinea on various private or Government jobs. They carried out elementary training in marksmanship, demolition work, guerrilla fighting, and mapping, and it was their object to become the nucleus of a trained jungle force in the event of an emergency. Many of its members had seen service in the Great War, some had not been born
when the Great War began.
Their ranks included traders, planters, mining engineers, native labour overseers, aircraft mechanics, executives of various tropical trading concerns, Government health officials, patrol officers. In addition to this
tiny fighting force in embryo there was a trained nucleus of native constabulary working with the administrations in both British New Guinea and Papua.
This was the set-up when the Japanese, already advancing down the Malayan
Peninsula, opened a second prong of potential Pacific conquest by driving south from the Mandated Islands of the Carolines toward the Bismarck Archipelago, the Solomons and New Guinea. Action began with a suddenness that might have paralysed a less conscientious defence force. When the Japanese first bombed Rabaul on the 3rd January, 1942, this main outlying base was defended by two coast defence guns, two anti-aircraft guns, a garrison of 1400 troops, some of them noncombatants, and a puny air force consisting of a few Catalinas, Hudsons, and Wirraways.
Port Moresby itself was the vital bastion between the Japanese advance and the continent of Australia, but at that time it was defended virtually by a token garrison. Within a fortnight of the first attack on Rabaul the Japanese had converted what had appeared to be a "tropic sideshow" into a large-scale air
saturation operation, obviously a preliminary to invasion. Using a carrier-borne force of
light bombers, dive bombers, and fighters, in conjunction with land-based heavy bombers,
they struck over a vast area of the islands in an attempt to confuse our defences as to
which of the attacks were diversionary and which were necessary preparations for out-right invasion.
Although attacks were generally
heavy over the whole island perimeter, the heaviest raids were made on Rabaul, Bulolo,
and Lae. On the 23rd January Rabaul was invaded by a Japanese task force estimated to
consist of more than twenty warships and transports carrying 17,000 picked soldiers and
marines, and a covering air force probably aggregating 250 modem aircraft. Against the
fury of the pre-invasion "blitz" Rabaul gave gallant but vain resistance; and within four
hours of the Japanese attack the main base in New Britain was under the Japanese flag and
the Australian garrison was either killed, captured, or attempting to struggle to safety
through the tangled jungles of The Bainings.
CIVILIAN EVACUATION
With the fall of Rabaul heavy raids continued on the New Guinea mainland, which was obviously next on the roster of the Japanese military plans; and the first important task of the N.G.V.R. was to see to the evacuation of women, children, and all civilian men either too old or unfit for military service. The N.G.V.R. performed a magnificent task in assembling refugees at stated points, caring for the sick and wounded, in finding routes by which they could cross the mountains to safety, and in arranging for air transportation to get them away.
In what was probably the craziest rescue fleet the world has ever
seen battered old mining transport planes, two seater Moths, and ancient
fabric-covered biplanes-more than 2000 men, women and children were brought from isolated tropical outposts, from mining towns and trading ports, and taken to the safety of the Australian mainland. The job was done with the loss of only one suitcase.
The N.G.V.R. at Lae then swung into military action in exactly the same way that an equivalent V.D.C. organization would have gone into action had similar attacks or similar threats been delivered against the Australian mainland. Lae itself, which, although capital of British New Guinea, had been virtually undefended, had been tremendously battered by a low-altitude attack carried out by
sixty Japanese bombers and fighters the day before the invasion of Rabaul.
In less than an hour. property worth 1250,000 was ravaged
by bombs or destroyed by flames. Behind Lae in the mountains, half of Bulolo was in ruins. The N.G.V.R. brought order to the ruined town and in blinding tropical rainstorms escorted the civilian population through terrible swamps and jungles to safety.
One 62-year-old trader who insisted on remaining with the N.G.V.R. to defend Lae it the Japanese came had to be forcibly sent from the area, and he finished up by setting the pace for a party of aged men and women and also children who walked and went in native canoes all the way from Salamaua and Lae to Buna and up the track to Kokoda. Other refugees went by mountain trail to Wau.
With all non-essential civilians out of the area N.G.V.R. officers, in co-operation with the Port Moresby garrison, set about establishing a main jungle force in the Markham Valley, to be instructed, supplied, and fed by the Moresby garrison, and if possible, to be reinforced as rapidly as men and materials were available.
SCORCHED EARTH AT LAE
A patrol was sent in to Lae to ensure that a scorched earth policy had been carried out. The Japanese planes themselves had done an efficient job, but it was discovered that the untouched Lands Office was abandoned in perfect order. It even contained a full stock of printed maps of various New
Guinea districts which would have been a prize of the utmost value to the enemy. The office and its contents were destroyed, together with fuel dumps, abandoned motor cars and liquor
stores. When the tiny column of N.G.V.R. men moved back into the jungle through blinding rain and along a native track which was a slowly moving stream of treacly black mud, Lae was a silent and shattered capital containing nothing of value to the enemy. Even a supply of bullion brought down from the Bulolo Valley mines was discovered in the safe of a bank. One of the N.G.V.R. men offered to act as an amateur cracksman, blew the safe, and the gold was taken to an airfield from which it was flown by bomber to Port Moresby.
The N.G.V.R. had six weeks in which to establish itself as a valuable force
assisting, the main fighting force now being built up in Port Moresby with all the speed possible. At the end of that brief period, on the night of the 8th March, the Japanese invaded and captured Lae and Salamaua after the cautious preliminary of heavy air and naval bombardment against two completely abandoned towns. The N.G.V.R. were able to organize native patrols, to enlist natives for the carriage of supplies, to keep a close watch on Japanese movements and to report to Port Moresby enemy establishments and defence positions.
In addition, it was their task to harass the enemy in any way possible by demolition, night raids, and other methods. They also kept the Japanese pinned down over the critical period to the coastal fringe by sniping and ambushing along the few jungle-choked tracks that led into the mountains behind Lae. At other points in a vast area, always as close as possible to the Japanese positions, they did invaluable work as spotters and outposts, feeding vital information into intelligence headquarters at Moresby, and even in selecting desirable targets for the attention of our bombers operating over the enemy positions.
ABSORBED INTO ARMY
As strength increased in Port Moresby, and as sufficient material aid arrived to make it possible to reinforce the jungle outposts, the N.G.V.R. became absorbed gradually into
orthodox Army units on the same basis as troops enlisted on the mainland and sent to New Guinea as regular members of the Army. The men were given regulation uniform, ample and modern equipment, better rations, and more efficient medical services. Within a few months some of them, down for a brief spell of leave, could be seen in mainland cities
wearing the distinctive green and yellow colour patch and the shoulder insignia of the N.G.V.R.
Much of the work they had carried out, during the critical period when we had to keep the Jap guessing, was subsequently done on a larger scale by trained personnel of the A.I.F. independent companies, but the N.G.V.R. had laid the basic groundwork, had established jungle camps and supply points. had carried out valuable patrols which had opened new supply routes, and had done much to fill in the gaps in maps which for a long time had been one of the big problems of utilizing a fighting force in areas of New Guinea almost completely unexplored.
The work of the N.G.V.R. continues. Many of its members are working with the Australian-New Guinea administrative unit as interpreters, administrators and overseers of native workmen. Some are attached to
alternative infantry units, and to scouting patrols. Some are still co-operating with
independent company units. Because of their knowledge of local conditions and customs, and because of their familiarity with the tough terrain of New Guinea, many of the former N.G.V.R. fighters have proved invaluable in selecting potential sites for the air strips which have enabled the 5th Air Force to drive the Japanese out of their island holdings, and in supervising the actual construction of fields.
It is impossible to more than skim the surface of this story, for so much of it cannot be told until hostilities cease. The very basis of the unit's first active service was one of the utmost secrecy, and much of its later life was still to be secret. The Japanese learned to fear the stealthy figures that haunted the tangled tracks of the Markham and Huon Gulf and the Waria. N.G.V.R. men fought valiantly
and bravely, without much recognition. They operated up in the sago swamps of the terrible Sepik country, where
head-hunting and cannibalism are matters of everyday occurrence, in scores of remote jungle outposts. Details of the adventures of the men in many of these areas cannot yet be given. When they can they
will form a thrilling story, almost unparalleled in this war for drama, suspense, and colour.
The significance of the story of the N.G.V.R. in this outline of the history of the V.D.C. is that it proved conclusively that a civilian organization, created for home defence, could perform vitally important military service during a period of active military operations when it was impossible to bring any weight of orthodox defence to bear against the enemy. In the vital period of a few months before and after the Japanese landing on the actual island of New Guinea, much depended on the spirit, training, and efficiency of the tiny force of "part-time soldiers" enlisted in the N.G.V.R. They did what they were asked to do. Those of them still capable of performing military service are carrying on with the job.
"B3/73" |
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A Day At The Range.
By N303922 |
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"THEY ALSO SERVE . . . " |
- INVASION lowered like a thunder-cloud,
- And in that darkened hour, with prompt and proud
- Response, you rallied to the call to arms.
- From out of shops and factories and farms
- You came, and grimly to defend your town
- You brought your old pea-rifles, shot-guns down.
- And gladly, too, you pledged yourselves to stand
- Or die, if need be, for the Motherland.
- Aside were placed the games of peace-time days.
- Instead you planned to master Army ways.
- In dust and heat, in fog and frost and rain
- You practised your manoeuvres, learnt to train
- Yourselves to discipline, to improvise,
- And plan, watched by an able veteran's eyes.
- "Just playing soldiers" was a common term
- Unthinking men then used; but you stood firm
- By your convictions, for you rightly knew
- Yours was the finer instinct, broader view.
- Unasked, un-thanked, unpaid, to each parade
- You came, and to the common weal you made
- Fine contribution. Spirits of the men
- Who died at Anzac Cove were with you then.
- And here again the histories may trace
- The grand tradition of the British race.
- Twas you who raised an army, played the part
- Of standing as reserves not losing heart;
- But you may scarcely hear the just applause
- For all that sterling service to the cause.
- Yet, un-starred heroes of the V.D.C.,
- You've brought us nearer to the victory.
"V362983" |
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Ready for
Inspection.
By NX111341 |
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GINGER AMONG THE SILVER |
IT was 1940, and the Kuning-gai Battalion was holding its first parade. A
grey-headed private was passing a strange platoon. "Hullo, dad"' came a cheeky greeting from the ranks.
The veteran stopped short, looked in the direction of the speaker, and answered pleasantly:
"When you address me, my lad, give me my proper rank. I was promoted 'grandfather' five years ago."
The platoon, some of whom knew that the grey-haired soldier had held field rank in the war of 1914-18, roared its approval, and was the youngster's face red?
"N172424" |
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FED-UP SENTRY : "HALT!- .
OR I'LL FILL YOU FULL OF
WHITE-ANTS. |
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I'VE NOTHING AGAINST MY OLD RIFLE |
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- I've nothing against my old
rifle
- It's only a kid's three-one-0;
- My equipment's green leather, not webbing,
- Still, it's not being carried for show.
- My tunic just fits where it touches;
- My greatcoat is rather a
freak
- Such things are nothing but trifles,
- But why must my ruddy boots squeak?
- Imagine us facing the foeman,
- In defence of our fair native land;
- 'Mid shot, shell, live ammo and so on,
- Our unit is making its stand.
- Imagine the shouts of loud laughter,
- Bringing tears to the Japanese cheek,
- When through all the carnage and slaughter
- They can hear my encrimsoned boots squeak.
- When in the dawn after vict'ry
- Peace spreads her fair cloak o'er the realm;
- Freedom returns with its blessings,
- And sanity's back at the helm.
- In the great tide of rejoicing,
- There's a cheer for the brave V.D.C.,
- But a discord resounds in this
paean
- It's a squeak from the south end of me!
"V365463" |
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JONAH HAS MARCHED OUT |
"JONAH" has resigned from the Corps.
Some acquaintances think it is because the invasion danger has abated. Jonah says it is because his peace-time duties have become more urgent.
But there is a more cogent reason than either of these.
There were no cheers on parade when Jonah joined the V.D.C.; nor did they run a standard to the top of the drill hall flagstaff. He was an old soldier, was Jonah, a very old soldier. |
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| He was one of those of whom the boys used to sing-"that they never die". And it was a matter of some regret to No. 6 Platoon that neither did he fade away.
For Jonah was dead unlucky. That was his reputation. He seemed fated to bring bad luck to 6 Platoon at all times. It clung to him like an unpleasant odour, so to speak. His very appearance on parade was a bad omen. Not that he wasn't an enthusiast; no member of the Corps excelled him in keenness and regularity. But somehow his efforts always seemed to miscarry.
Six Platoon remembered sadly, though without rancour now, how the carefully camouflaged weapon-pit they had prepared for the group competition would have won hands down if it hadn't been for Jonah's billycan hanging on the tree just behind. They also recalled vividly how the section stalk had been practically ruined because Jonah's dog Pincher alternately trotted and squatted about thirty or forty yards ahead of the patrol, and
stoutly resisted all efforts to induce him by cajolery or violence to desert his section.
Little things. You see, and it was rather unreasonable to blame Jonah altogether. The booby trap he invented, too, had not increased his popularity, especially after it had exploded prematurely and blown off half the radiator of Jim Tucker's utility. And when some blasted mug had
allowed half a dozen rounds from an Owen gun to go through the orderly room, and
luckily, right through-just by accident, mind you-it had to be Jonah who was holding the weapon when the furious
sergeant-major rushed out.
Then again, there was that occasion when the case of beer fell off Jonah's
lorry on its way to the canteen and only five bottles remained unbroken. That
was terrible. Terrible!
So there was no repining when Jonah volunteered for the job of cook's
off-sider at the week-end bivouac at Binnie's. At least, they fondly
thought he could do no harm there.
"I've wore out two pair of me own boots," he informed the platoon sergeant, in extenuation of his choosing a cushy job, "working and marching with the
V.D.C."
"Uh huh!" grunted the sergeant without excitement, not exactly observing the relevancy of the remark, and walked away from the makeshift cookhouse at the rear of
Binnie's woolshed. The issue of rations was spread on a bench near the fire, which was burning sluggishly in the drizzling rain.
Perce, the cook, was grumbling about the wet wood.
"They never make proper arrangements about the tucker," he growled. "Thank Gawd we've brought that tin of kero to give the fire a boost in the mornin'."
"The mob' ll be 'ungry after this all-night
stunt," said Jonah. "I s'pose we'll have to feed 'em about five o'clock."
"Yair. An' they'll be wet," chuckled Perce, looking out comfortably from under the
canvas at the sizzling fire.
"And 'ungry," repeated Jonah.
I 'ate muckin' about of a wet night," said Perce, after a bit.
"And crawlin'. Once when we was in Flers," began Jonah, and commenced drearily
to recount some far-off experience that Perce had heard related many times.
By and by they fell silent.
It was a cold, wet night, and a very tired,hungry and short-tempered company
returned to the woolshed about dawn. Perce and Jonah had not been idle, and it
appeared to the anxious O.C. and rather impatient orderly officer that breakfast would
soon be ready.
"The water's just about boilin'," Perce explained. "If on'y we could get this dam' wood
to blaze them three dixies of oacon d be ready in a tick."
It was beginning to smell good.
The drizzle had ceased with daylight, and the boys stood about in groups at a little distance, waiting. Someone had started a bit of a fire. But most eyes (and noses) were turned eagerly towards the centre of operations.
It was then that Jonah remembered the kerosene. He would!
"Stand back, Perce," he said, and approached the fire with a half-filled drum. He meant merely to sprinkle the smouldering wood, but, unluckily as usual for him, a slight slip on the wet ground caused the tin to fly from his hands.
In a moment there was a blinding flash and a roar like an exploded mine. Jonah had grabbed a benzine drum by mistake!
Men say hard things in times of stress.
Yes, Jonah was marched out in Part 11 of to-day's Company Orders.
"N383107" |
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A V.D.C. feller named Hants
Had a decided objection to pants,
He'd go on manoeuvres
Not wearing his doovers,
To the fiendish delight of the ants.
"V144618" |
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PLUMPTON (April, 1942) |
- YES, Daddy went to Plumpton camp to learn to fight the Jap;
- A gentleman was Daddy ere he went-a steady chap;
- But Dad returned from Plumpton with a fire in his eye
- To spread guerrilla gospel from Cooma to
Boggabri.
- Now his talk is all of "jelly" and of stealthy moves by night
- To kill and get away, for that's the way guerrillas fight,
- And we feel he's somehow altered-that he isn't quite so raw-
- For the "gentleman" is now a man we hadn't known before.
- Plumpton's just a nom de guerre-it's somewhere in the blue
- Where V.D.C. guerrilla bands are put their paces through;
- From palliasse on mother earth they rise at dawn of day
- To learn from then till midnight how to "Kill, and get away".
- "Move" is chief command at Plumpton-you must get there at the
run
- And you'd sleep on bags of concrete when at last the day is done;
- But they teach you lots at Plumpton-and they teach it pretty
well
- All the wiles and tricks of killing that will send a Jap to hell.
- How to move along a hillside, by a camp, or through a town,
- How to wreck a train and how to bring the bridges crashing down;
- How to keep a way back open and to stifle any coughs
- While you wait to welcome tank-crews with the home-made Molotovs.
- Demolition, unarmed combat, nasty ways of cutting throats,
- Fieldcraft, camouflage, and crossing over rivers without boats;
- How to operate a U~Fkers, how to use a hand-grenade,
- How to leave a kind reminder with a fuse that's been delayed.
- And you learn to flash a message from Guerrilla Joe to Bill
- When you see the foe beneath you from an observation hill;
- Learn to lie in moonlit timber through the silence of the nights
- With your rifle to your shoulder and your eye along the sights.
- Detonators are for breakfast, baratol you have for tea,
- And you mostly lunch on ammonal with bombs upon your knee;
- And for supper there's a Boston crab-most nourishing as
grub
- And at night you dream of sudden death while creeping through the scrub.
- Yes, Daddy went to Plumpton for to learn to beat the Jap;
- A gentleman was Daddy when he went-a peaceful chap;
- But Dad returned from Plumpton camp with fire in his eye
- To spread guerrilla gospel from Cooma to
Boggabri.
"N348327" |
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"It's no raid-he's only swallowed the ruddy whistle. |
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TOO REAL |
WE were doing a guerilla school. It was tough but we enjoyed it. On the last day they put us over the assault course again, using live ammunition and mines and generally giving us a practical indication of what to expect if ever we were called upon to, battle the Japs. Everything went well for the first hundred yards or so, then we started coming up among the mines. They were fenced off with barbed wire so that we knew what to avoid but nevertheless we were treading warily. They
were a bit too close, showering us with dirt and nearly knocking us over with the noise. We stumbled on and then one went off right near me and, scared by the explosion, I jumped and fell ack over
Charlie into a small ditch. I was just picking myself up to scramble out when a figure came hurtling in on top of me.
"Move over!" it yelled. "This is too flaming serious.
"V144618" |
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