by Alan Tucker
‘What do you think happened to them?’ Uncle Jim enquired.
‘I suspect the Nazis machine-gunned them as they drifted harmlessly in open boats,’ he said. ‘And that’s why the Australian government’s hushing everything up. It was a massacre right on our doorstep. The navy and air force should be ashamed of themselves letting the enemy get so close to our shores.’ He pointed towards Cleveland Bay. ‘Who knows, there could be a German submarine or armed freighter on our doorstep at this very moment.’
We all turned and gazed towards the bay and looked concerned.
The good news last week was that we received a letter from Harold stationed somewhere in the Middle East. I asked Mum why Harold always calls her Thelma (her name) rather than Mum. I didn’t notice it so much when he used to say it but now that he’s written it, it doesn’t look right.
She smiled and shook her head. ‘Harold took it on himself to be the man in the family after Errol died and I guess he felt more grown-up when he called me Thelma. He was such a difficult boy at the time that I decided it was not worth arguing with him over what he called me. I was happy as long as he was talking to me.’
October 1941
Thelma and Arch.
There’s fighting going on everywhere else but here—much to my disappointment. The Russians and Germans are at each other’s throats in the snows of Moscow and the Crimea; the RAAF boys are bombing enemy occupied Europe and have even conducted bombing raids on Berlin; the Tommies and Germans are slogging it out in the deserts of North Africa – but my lot are sitting here in strengthening and camouflaging weapons’ pits. It’s not my idea of fun.
We won our little bit of the war too quickly and now we’re under orders to dig in and position. The blokes were dead on their feet when we ceased hostilities but that was three months ago. We’re fully recovered now and raring to go–and have been for some time. Our orders, however, are to remain in position. Why wait for the Nazis to make the next move? Why not push forward and attack them? We’re not afraid of a stoush. Guess what we were offered as an alternative to battle action? Training classes! Some of the lads are learning to cook. What’s the Big Brass planning to do? Bake rock buns and hurl them at the Nazis.
Hopefully this is the last long letter you get from me. It’s long because I have very little else to do.
Harold
P.S. I received your letter. I’m pleased to hear that Des has enlisted, even if it’s only the militia. I was surprised to read of your move to Queensland. I hope it goes well. Say gidday to the rellies for me.
I asked Mum what Harold meant when he wrote ‘only the militia’. She didn’t know so I asked Cousin Stanley. He explained that the militia are a home defence service.
‘All unmarried men aged 20 to 35, who do not volunteer for the Second AIF, are conscripted into the militia. They do some intensive full-time training then return to their jobs and train after-hours. They are considered inferior soldiers because their training is not as rigorous as that given to the AIF men and they train with weapons left over from the First World War. As a militiaman myself, I am aware of our deficiencies but believe we should not be sneered at for doing our duty.’
Sunday, 30 November
The rains are getting heavier and the thunderstorms increasing in frequency and volume. They’re quite frightening. The tropical rain CRASHES down and the thunder BOOMs. If there is a German sub or raider offshore, its crew will have a hard time detecting a target in this weather. The weather and visibility in the Mediterranean is obviously better than here because the Germans have torpedoed and sunk the British battleship, Barham. 800 men lost their lives.
The bad weather seems to have brought out the worst in the school bully, Tony (Anthony) Harrison. He’s a lump of a lad, and some boys call him Beefy. No-one calls him Beefy to his face. That would provoke him into action. Wet weather at lunch times means all students have to crowd together under the verandahs and playground shelters. And that means I can’t easily escape Beefy’s taunts. One boy called ‘Slim’ (although he’s not as skinny as me) told me Beefy’s always angry because his father was killed in Syria earlier in the year.
‘My b-b-brother’s fighting in Syria. He might have known him.’
‘He doesn’t know anyone — he’s dead,’ Slim replied.
Slim teases me sometimes but not as much as he used to. All the kids are slowly getting used to my way of speaking — except Beefy. One day this week he accused me of bumping into him and pushed me out into the rain. I had to sit in class after lunch, dripping wet. The only good thing is that the weather in Townsville is warm at this time of the year so I wasn’t cold.
Sunday, 7 December
I spent some time at Slim’s house yesterday. When Uncle Jim dropped me off he laughed at Slim and me standing together.
‘You look like a pair of goal posts,’ he said. ‘If you had another mate with you, you’d look like a set of cricket stumps.’ He drove off laughing.
Slim walked home with me later in the day so we could climb Castle Hill. We stopped several times on the way up to catch our breath. The view was stunning. Slim told me the large island just off the coast is Magnetic Island. He said it looks close but it’s too far to swim and the ocean, at this time of the year, is filled with Portuguese Men-of-War.
‘They’re giant killer jellyfish. One sting and you’re dead.’
It’s good to have a friend to talk to.
Monday, 8 December
I’m writing on a Monday because Australia has a new enemy — Japan. Their air force bombed a massive US naval base at Pearl Harbour in Hawaii. The US President, Mr Roosevelt, has declared war on Japan and so has our Prime Minister, Mr Curtin.
Our teacher showed us where Hawaii and Japan are on a large wall map. They’re separated by thousands of miles of ocean. I can’t believe US naval lookouts didn’t spot the Japanese planes approaching. The newspaper photos of burning and sinking battleships in Pearl Harbour show that the surprise attack did massive damage.
Our teacher told us to take out our atlases and compare the distances of Hawaii and Townsville from Japan. We measured both and the mileage is almost identical. In fact, Townsville is a couple of hundred miles closer. She warned us that if the Japanese can attack a heavily fortified US naval base and encounter very little resistance then they would have no problems attacking Townsville which has almost no defences.
During dinner tonight everyone was talking about Pearl Harbour. Cousin Stanley said the attack might shed new light on the sinking of the Sydney.
‘Maybe that lightly armed German cruiser did have a little help,’ he said. ‘Maybe a Japanese submarine was involved in the sinking of the Sydney.’
‘But we weren’t at war with the Japanese then,’ Auntie Dorothy commented.
‘True, mother, but the Americans were not at war with Japan either when the Pearl Harbour attack was made,’ he replied. ‘That little technicality did not stop the Japanese. If they are prepared to take on the might of the US and bomb their powerful Pacific fleet, then I do not think they would think twice about sinking a small Australian battle cruiser and machine-gunning her survivors.’
I don’t know why I call Cousin Stanley, Cousin Stanley, instead of just Stanley. I don’t call Shirley, Cousin Shirley. Maybe it’s because his unusual way of speaking makes him sound like a policeman or a doctor—or someone official who needs a title. I don’t mean he’s bossy. He’s serious-friendly not relaxed-friendly like Uncle Jim. He gave me a copy of a map he’d cut out of the newspaper, showing Pearl Harbour, the Pacific Ocean and Australia. Uncle Jim told me to circle Singapore. ‘That’s Singapore, Archie. We’ll need to keep our eye on it’.
Sunday, 14 December
A lot has happened in the past week since the new war started. Two more British battleships have been sunk—this time by the Japanese. 1,500 men died when HMS Repulse and HMS Prince of Wales went to the bottom. The British government stationed them in south-east Asia to help defend Singapore but they can’t do that now
. Uncle Jim’s worried that our northern coastline is very vulnerable to attack without the might of the British Navy to protect us.
‘Prime Minister Curtin was on the right track the other day,’ he told us, ‘when he asked every citizen to put his business and private affairs on a war footing, starting by digging bomb shelters and blacking out windows.’
‘You worry too much, dad,’ Shirley told him. ‘The Japs might have fired a couple of lucky shots and sunk two ships but they’ll never capture Singapore — it’s an island fortress. Mr Churchill (the Prime Minister of England) says it’s impregnable.’
Cousin Stanley said he wasn’t so sure. ‘The Japanese commanders have so far proved themselves superior tacticians to the US and British commanders. If there is a way to invade and capture the island, I am sure they will find it.’
The Townsville council’s taking the Japanese threat seriously: they’ve ordered Uncle Jim’s work team to build air raid shelters and slit trenches around town and in the local parks. According to Uncle Jim there’ll be a series of shelters dug under the main street’s medium strip. And, starting Monday, there’ll be armed guards out the front of vital buildings such as the hospital, the post office and the RAAF base.
‘There’s even talk of digging tunnels into Castle Hill, some as civilian shelters and some for gun emplacements and ammunition storage,’ he told us.
‘I don’t want to live alongside an ammunition dump,’ Auntie Dorothy said. ‘It’ll be the first place the Japs attack.’
That prospect made Mum uneasy too.
School has finished for the year. It ended on a bad note for me. Beefy tripped me up as I was leaving the school grounds. I skinned my knees and dropped my books. My pencil case popped open and my pencils went everywhere. Beefy laughed and kicked them onto the road.
Uncle Jim noticed my bloodied knees. When I told him what happened he said I shouldn’t have to put up with lads like Beefy.
‘There are enough bullies around the world at the moment without you having to tolerate one close to home. Point this boy out to me and I’ll have a word with him or his parents.’ He smiled and put his arm on my shoulder. ‘Or I could show you how to box and you could bop him on the nose. He’d get the message more powerfully that way. What do you reckon?’
‘I’m not much of a fighter but maybe I could learn.’
‘Good man.’
Sunday, 21 December
Christmas isn’t as much fun now-a-days as it was before the war. Harold was away overseas last Christmas so there was just the three of us. This year Des is in militia training which leaves only Mum and me. There’s our rellies too, of course, but it’s not the same without my brothers, especially Des.
Friday, 12 December 1941
Dear Mum and Archie,
The pace of training has picked up considerably since the Japanese decided to become bully-boys and attack our unsuspecting northern neighbours. Hopefully they’ll quickly be knocked off their perch and turned into feather dusters. Archie knows how I feel about bullies. Rest assured, if they attempt to land on Australian soil, we militia lads will be ready to bloody their noses good and proper.
Our AIF training neighbours don’t have much confidence in our fighting abilities which has caused considerable tension around camp. They say we’re not proper soldiers and call us as ‘chocos’ (chocolate soldiers). I don’t know why they’re so rude. Tension boiled over recently. The AIF lads started it. If anyone was entitled to throw the first blow, it’s we militia. We’re the ones who have been taunted and teased for weeks.
The AIF flew into us unprovoked. They bashed us with their steel helmets. We used our rifle butts to beat them back. I was correct in my assessment of my room-mate Bert. He came to my rescue when two AIF toughs ganged up on me and were giving me what-for. It was a free-for-all until an officer ordered us to stop. He told us to save our hostility for the real enemies — the Germans and the Japanese. After the AIF lads returned to their section of the camp, he smiled and told us that for ‘chocos’ we gave as good as we got.
Our nine weeks’ training course is almost at an end and we are soon to move out. I’m guessing that because of the Japanese threat from our north, we’ll be sent north. If we’re stationed in north Queensland, Mum, I’ll be able to visit you when I get Leave.
I’ll be thinking of you on the 25th. Merry Christmas, Mum. Merry Christmas, Archie.
I miss you both, Des
In the past three months, the Japs have attacked and overrun Burma, Malaya, Borneo, many parts of the Dutch East Indies and lots of other places I’ve never heard of. It’s incredible how many countries they’ve conquered and how many thousands of miles they’ve travelled to do so. Cousin Stanley has been very patient pointing out where all the countries are on the large map pinned to his bedroom wall. He’s very knowledgeable and explains anything I want to know about the war. I like Cousin Stanley even though he’s unusual. He keeps the bedroom really neat. He even tidies my half if I leave it untidy but he never tells me off or nags me about being more tidy.
‘Before I was told of your arrival and asked to share my bedroom with you,’ he told me, ‘I had my train set constructed where your bed is positioned.’
‘You have a train set?’
‘Of course. Trains are my passion.’
‘Can we play with it sometime?’ I asked
He looked at me with a slightly confused look. ‘I do not play with it, Archie. It is not a toy. I use it to learn about track switching and to practise strict schedules.’
He said he’d set it up soon so we could use it during my Christmas holidays.
Uncle Jim’s the council foreman so he gets to drive from site to site in the truck to supervise his work teams. They’re busy building bomb shelters. The government has introduced petrol rationing but the council truck gets an extra fuel allowance because it’s on official wartime business. The day I went to work with Uncle Jim and Bluey, I enjoyed travelling in the truck cabin. It’s high which allows you to see over people’s fences and into their backyards.
Sunday, 28 December
On Christmas Day we heard that the Japs had overrun Hong Kong. Fortunately we had some good news too: the first US troops have landed on Australian soil. They’re from the South Pacific Task Force. Nearly 5,000 of them disembarked in Brisbane and, it’s rumoured, tens of thousands more will soon follow. Their presence confirms what Mr Curtin said in his latest speech—that for the first time in Australia’s 150-year history we’ve changed our allegiance from Great Britain to the United States of America.
‘We put all our defence eggs in Great Britain’s basket,’ Uncle Jim said, ‘but she dropped the basket. Now, all that stands between us and the Japs are the US forces and heaven knows if they’ll be up to the mark.’
Shirley took me shopping a few days before Christmas. She warned me there aren’t many things in the stores because of rationing but we found something that we both thought Mum would like.
Mum told me she loved it when she unwrapped it.
‘I’ve always wanted a fancy wide-brimmed hat,’ she said. ‘In Melbourne during the spring racing carnival, every woman wanted to own a hat but here, it’s essential. During the Wet I need it to keep dry and in the Dry I need it for sun protection.’
I told her Shirley helped me choose my gift. She kissed and thanked her too then said, ‘Thank you everyone for making Archie and me feel so much at home in your home. I didn’t know what to expect before we caught the train north but now that we’re here, I’m very happy.’
Cousin Stanley was funny unwrapping his presents. He didn’t want to tear the paper so he used his fingernails to meticulously pick the sticky tape free of the paper. He folded the used paper neatly and gave it to Auntie Dorothy for safekeeping. He thanked people politely for his presents but didn’t say whether he liked them or not.
Uncle Jim was ropeable when he went to start the truck yesterday morning. Someone had syphoned all the petrol out of the tank.
&nbs
p; ‘It could be an enemy spy,’ he said, ‘trying to hamper our war effort or it could be some greedy local trying to make a few quid on the Black Market. Some bludgers will exploit any situation. They put personal greed before national security,’ he said angrily.
Sunday, 4 January 1942
New Year’s Eve was very quiet because a black-out has been imposed in every town and property north of Mackay (250 miles south of here). New Year’s Day was fun. Cousin Stanley and I unpacked the train set. He set it up because it had to be done in a particular way. He taught me the name of each piece of track and rolling stock then instructed me to hand them to him one at a time. He carefully examined his favourite locomotive and carriage.
The track runs under a section of each of our beds so we have to be careful climbing out after dark.
We heard on the radio news that the Japs have bombed a town named Rabaul. Cousin Stanley located it on his map then used a ruler to calculate how far it is from there to here: it’s 1,000 miles.
‘Too bloody close for comfort,’ Uncle Jim grumbled.
Sunday, 11 January
Apart from the continuing bad news (the Japs have captured the capital of Malaya and attacked more islands in the Dutch East Indies), there’s not much to report on this week. Everyone’s back at work after a few days off over the Christmas—New Year break. The weather is wet, wet, wet.
The war in Europe is in a bit of a stalemate because of winter snow and mud. Winter, so far, has proved to be the only thing capable of stopping the German advance. Their soldiers are currently bogged down in Russia without supplies and equipment and are reportedly freezing to death. Meanwhile, we’re sweating like crazy in the Townsville humidity.
We haven’t heard from Des or Harold for a few weeks. Mum gets nervy when they don’t write. I spent two days this week over at Slim’s house playing cards and board games. He and I get on well. He likes to sit around and talk while playing games. I was nervous about doing that initially. I’ve always avoided talking. But I’ve got used to it with him. The more we chat, the less I stutter. I’m often like that when I’m around people I feel comfortable with.
