by Colin Adamson (1957-60)
PREFACE
Command Secretary
Northern Command
1960
Finance Representative
Murray Barracks
Port Moresby
………..come to my notice……. flight unauthorized ….high expenditure…no excuse…Lieutenant Adamson….recover costs…system…not to be repeated.
……………………………………………………………………………………………….
G O C
Northern Command
1960
Commanding Officer
Pacific Islands Regiment
Port Moresby
………read with much interest….passed to CGS….valuable experience…Lieutenant Adamson….highly delighted
…………………………………………………………………………………………………
So where did I stand I thought as I read the messages again and again. Away in the scrub for weeks, almost master of my own destiny, no comms and rotten food, pleased to see the lights of POM City again and collect two letters like this before my feet are dry.
The one I was delighted to receive. I had much respect for the General.
The other one worried me. It came from a person involved in book keeping and controls and who seemed to have no concept of our job. Bokata brought me another Fosters and being distracted, I took it. How was I going to get out of this mess and how did I get into it in the first place?
It went back 3 months. I was watching cricket and the Intelligence Officer nabbed me. He had been working on a series of patrols into the hinterland for some time and I was the fortunate one marked to get the ball rolling. We agreed to meet in the CO’s office the next day for a prelim briefing.
Our CO then was Jim Norrie; a most knowledgeable gent and one who recognized young officers as hard workers. We enjoyed working for him.
We discussed the job and then headed for the Dept of Native Affairs for another briefing. This was in quite some detail concerning the first and last 50 miles of my trek but the knowledge gap in between was appalling, though I felt quite excited at being given the opportunity once again of going “where no white man had gone before”.
The route lay across the island in a dog-leg: Kerema in the Gulf, north to Menyamya in the Morobe District but really in the Highlands and then east to Lae on the coast. The walk itself held little concern for me; 300 miles or so, a bit of swamp and secondary growth; miles of open grassland we called kunai and the usual up and down stuff. The big concern lay with the people I would encounter, talk to, bargain with and disrupt. Kuku Kuku was their generic tribal name.
Think of an adjective and you have the Kuku Kuku. Fierce, proud, murderous,
conniving, paranoid, suicidal and treacherous come quickly to mind. In PNG the very mention of their name promoted stories without end. They kill because they like to kill; they eat human flesh because they like it and they vendetta without remorse.
So be it I thought. I will have ten trusty soldiers and a compass. “To Find a Path” is our regimental motto and so we shall.
The first was not to be. Some six months earlier I had been moved to the command of the recruit training company and thus had no trained soldiers of my own from which I could select. But inspiration came to me.
It was approaching Queens Birthday parade and so I decided that I would select those young men who were lacking the necessary parade ground agility. And so I did. Lucky for me.
The team I gathered and nurtured needed other skills – strength, agility, fortitude, calmness and docility. They needed to be bush people, aware of the dangers and the differences, and a caring for people who lived in darkness.
Such a team I found. Individually they were unsure of their ability to challenge the Kuku Kuku; they had been nurtured on stories of these people. Discipline of the nature practiced in PIR won through; encouragement, explanation and example.
All those who went with me I had trained over the years as recruits. None came from my platoon of previous years, which was now working in far-away Manus Island.
Sgt Saila of Morobe; young, stolid and highly dependable. Cpl Rawalo of Marshall Lagoon and medical assistant. Pikae and Mopa of Manus Island and Hevovo from Kerema, Test, Omas and Meva of the Sepik; Torokin from Rabaul and Hisimitavi of Mt Hagen.
They were a mixed bag but all good. Omas carried the A510 radio but Hisimitavi was the operator. Saila I had known for two years on and off since the first NCO course I had run. Rawalo I had known for three years – he had been on two patrols with me earlier. Pikae had sold me a carved bowl 18 months earlier on Mockerang Peninsular, lived with my platoon for a week and demanded to be enlisted.
We went off together along the Kokoda Trail for a week to strengthen up, get to know each other and rehearse our drills. On return from that, I flew an air recce to get an idea of the terrain and route and cached food at Menyamya for the second leg to Lae.
Day 1….30 May 60
We set off from Port Moresby aboard the regiment’s patrol boat…AV Fern…60 feet, two Grey marine diesels and a crew of three commanded by Sgt ‘Pappy Doig’. The following morning we were off the sandbar guarding Kerema and by lunch we had been ferried ashore and met up with Kingsley Jackson who was the District Commissioner and the team he had put together to give us a flying start.
Day 2 ….31 May 60
The main problem here for us was that nobody, especially myself had much of an idea as to how long it would take us to get to Menyamya where the next real feast awaited us. We settled on three weeks. The patrol members would carry 10 days food each and eat it up; we needed carriers for the following ten days for us together with carriers to carry food for the carriers!! My logistic skills could not cope with these sums.
Organizing the food was easy as the ration scale was not elaborate. Per man per day; one pound of brown rice, half a tin of bully beef, a packet of dog biscuits and a bit of tea and sugar. To conclude this lot, the system also provided a shilling per day per man to buy guides and carriers plus whatever was available in the way of fresh fruit and vegetables, fish, pig and snake and wild tobacco. The QM also came good with a bundle of old shirts and shorts to use as trade on the way and I converted the cash to trade goods such as small knives, beads and salt.
Kingsley had the answer. He settled on twenty carriers from gut feeling and told me that when their task was over, that “it’s all down hill on their way home and if they’re hungry they’ll run a bit faster.”
Gathering the volunteer carriers at a shilling a day was an easy task for him. Kingsley had a road gang of convicted adulterers, murderers and tax evaders “eating their heads off”. He gave me two nervous young cops as well to beat them along.
Kingsley was a great fellow who was passionate about the Gulf and the people. The Gulf is swamp, sago and fish are the staples with little else to recommend it except for masses of oil and natural gas discovered in the 50’s and 60’s.
Kingsley and I had a long discussion that afternoon and night over rum and curry. He advised me to be particularly careful in our dealings with the people we would meet. Ken Chester who had briefed me in Port Moresby had been through a little of the same general area years earlier. Nobody had been there since, and the Kuku Kukus paid scant attention to law and order. The area was his parish; he was responsible for the whole and he didn’t want to have to spend months repairing damage caused by lead-footed soldiers. I think that I reassured him. An event several days later showed me how right he was.
Day 3 …1 Jun 60
We had a friendly parting the next day. The motors on the assault boat were working with unbelievable efficiency and we headed up the Mamaru River towards dry land and the start of our little venture.
Late afternoon brought us to our destination, the tiny hamlet of Mamara, well within the orbit of Kerema but really bushy. The locals were friendly, sold us taro and wild sugar cane and told us dreadful stories of the people in the hinterland.
Brown rice, bully beef and black tea made up the inevitable breakfast and we left Mamara in good spirits. The track we followed seemed to go generally to the north and this bolstered my spirits considerably, as my map was a wartime edition and not particularly accurate. It was well defined to start with and on the steep side, so we were quickly out of the swampy bits. Rain started early as is common, but it was warm and we were used to being wet. The hamlet of Laveneni was reached around mid-day. Black tea, dog biscuits and sugar cane for lunch and then off again; just climbing up, up and up again all afternoon until we came upon an abandoned and disused garden site that seemed to make a reasonable place to camp for the evening.
Saila organized the piquet roster, Omas and Hisimitavi set up the A510 for the sked we had agreed on. Voice failed, but pleasantly, Morse code did the trick. From then on, we had no success at all with voice comms and Morse was about 50/50. Rawalo did the first aid rounds. A few blisters were all he had to report.
Day 4…
Our first contact with the Kukukuku occurred the next afternoon at the hamlet of Didekitegawa. We had had a dreadful day of crossing rivers, climbing up and down ever-steeper ridgelines in rain and fog. My diary says “a bloody long day and pleased to see the end of it”.
Didekitegawa is not much to look at. The Kukukuku live in separate generic groups about a series of ridgelines. It has about 40 houses mainly of sago leaf construction spread over a couple of square miles interspersed with many gardens. The population appeared to be about 100 all up. They seemed to be friendly enough and wanted to trade sago, sugar cane and taro in return for the glass beads we had.
They also produced a young buck by name Oanim who had some knowledge of the area to the north and wanted to join us, in return for stick tobacco and a dry bed. Hevovo was able to hold a simple conversation with him so I agreed to take him. We settled on a teaspoon of beads a day.
The Kukukuku people number between 35,000 and 40,000 and they live in that area stretching from just north of Kerema to Menyamya and beyond and then east to Bulolo. In the Menyamya Sub-District they speak at least six languages and forty dialects.
Physically, and in the manner of clothing and accessories they differ little. They are mostly short and solid. The men wear a short grass skirt in front and cover their buttocks with a small piece of beaten bark cloth. Their hair is shaved with a piece of bamboo to a point well above the ears leaving a small crop of hair on the crown of the head. In wet or cold weather they wear a long beaten bark cloak and this is attached to the crop of hair by a small drawstring and allowed to fall below the knees. It was quite common to see the men also wearing a girdle of cassowary bones around their waist, and it is to this girdle that they owe their general name of Kukukuku, the word kokokoko meaning cassowary in the Motuan language. To complete their accessories, “bandoliers” of plaited reeds are worn diagonally across the body along with small cowrie shells and pieces of yellow cane.
Few items of steel were seen during the patrol; most men carrying short bows and arrows, stone adzes and clubs, these being shaped like a cogwheel.
The Kukukuku is not a great traveller and it was with difficulty that I managed to persuade guides to accompany us for more than a days walk from their hamlet. It was very likely of course that they were fearful of moving into another tribe’s area, but I was too inexperienced at the time to think of it at the time.
While it is apparently not a general practice of these people; a large percentage of those we passed through, namely from Wunop, six days north from Kerema to Kadsiago; four days south of Menyamya manufacture their own salt by burning a mixture of pitpit (wild sugar cane) and karaooka vine. The residue undergoes a number of processes and the final result is salt of a nature.
In common with other peoples of the Territory, the Kukukuku believe in the spiritual powers and properties of the root of the kawawar this being a type of wild ginger. I witnessed several instances of local sorcery. One of our guides was suffering an extreme bout of dysentery and refused our help. He called on some locals instead, six of whom daubed their bodies with clay, beat sticks and danced around him for no less than six hours. The following morning he was fit and well.
No actual burial grounds were seen, but it was quite common to find bodies in various stages of decomposition propped in a sitting position on small cane tables scattered throughout the gardens. Closer to Menyamya ,the people smoke the bodies and place them in caves on top of Red Mountain which is about two hours walk from the patrol post.
Day 5….3 June 60
Moving on from Didekitegawa, we began climbing again through thick moss forest, crossing small creeks on the way and being drenched with heavy rainfalls and thick mist. We continued to climb all day; following creeks to their source; moving along a ridgeline and then continuing to climb again. This concluded 6 ½ hours of walking; camp was made in a small clearing; the rain continued to bucket down and we were enveloped in cloud/mist again.
Day 6….4 June 60
The following morning we set off again; down hill this time through rain forest which made for reasonable going though this was not to last for long for another ridge appeared and the climb commenced again and we finally reached the gardens of Agaminia and met the locals. There were about sixty of them and seven communal houses. They claimed that a patrol officer had not visited them before but several of them had seen him at Didekitegawa. We did not delay here but moved on and upwards again and being impeded by numerous fallen trees. This continued until very late in the afternoon when we came upon the hamlet and gardens of Tambu. We were met by the people, and there were three women among the group who offered us vegetables for trade, which we accepted.
Heavy rain began to fall again as we made camp at the garden edge. This was accompanied by a strong wind making the night most uncomfortable.
This morning we woke to a bundle of trouble. Pikae was screaming with pain and could not be calmed. It turned out that he had been caught stealing wild ginger from the gardens and the chief had put “puri puri “on him. This is a form of powerful magic invoked against wrongdoers and virtually irreversible. But it was not just Pikae in trouble….we were all under threat with the men crowding in on us with arrows notched on tight strings and not a cop to be seen! Hevovo’s language skills came to the rescue; he explained that Pikae was just a young man from far away across the salt water with no sense of shame. This and a bit more, eased the matter. I passed over Pikae’s tobacco and blanket in payment, the puri puri was reversed and we went our way with Pikae carrying the radio and two spare batteries. I was angry with him and upset, and determined that I would not let him forget.
Moving off, we moved downhill to the Tambu River; followed this upstream for some time and then climbed a ridge line which went roughly north east. The going here was quite easy through rain forest and near midday we came upon the hamlet of Wombiu. This had three houses and about 25 people. After a short break, we moved off and down to the Wewier River; forded this and then climbed another ridge to bring us to an old DNA camp site. Saila sent Pikae down with 10 water bottles to refill.
The spur line from here was very steep and enclosed in thick rain forest making difficult going.
We finally stopped in mid afternoon and were visited by a number of people from the hamlet of Wuno, who had vegetables to trade. Among them was a young man by name Titi who spoke reasonable Police Motu so I enlisted him as a guide and interpreter. This was quite handy as the police interpreter was soon to return to Kerema.
Day 8….6 June 60
The following morning we broke camp and headed off along the We River but it was not long before we came upon Wuno. This had about 60 people and was one of a group of six other hamlets we could see on ridge lines to the east.
We continued on, following the We and passing through kunai grass some 7 or 8 feet tall. This made for very uncomfortable conditions as though the sun was not yet out in force, the atmosphere was very close and sticky. Around mid-day we came upon the hamlet of Metwari 1 and shortly later Metwari 2. Both had extensive gardens with a total of eleven huts and about 40-50 people.
We continued to climb a ridgeline from here for about an hour and came upon rain forest again. Heavy rain was falling by now but the going was reasonably easy and dropped away to the Baiwo River which we forded. We climbed this to its apex; located a reasonable place to set up camp and settled in. Pikae was selected to fill our water bottles and gather firewood sufficient for the night.
Day 9…7 June 60
The following morning was fine and sunny so I announced a day off to rest up; wash our clothes and have a decent meal. The carriers were dispatched back to Kerema under police escort and their food load was distributed about the patrol. About mid-morning, the camp was visited by locals with vegetables to sell and this was welcome. We put out “tambu” signs when this was finished and saw no more of them. Titi remained with us.
Day 10…8 June 60
Moving on the next day, the rain forest remained with us and we continued to follow a series of ridgelines roughly northwards. We saw six small hamlets on this day but it was not until late that people appeared. They came from behind us; about 60 of them; shouting abuse and notching arrows to bowstrings that were not tight. All the time they remained about 200 hundred yards from us and continued with their abuse. We finally stopped for lunch in the unoccupied hamlet of Pelangau and a steep climb after this brought us to Imbeibongga in the early afternoon. This was most welcome as the people had forced us to slow down considerably and I was concerned with their attitude.
I decided to take some positive action and so Saila and I walked back towards them and returned their abuse. We took Pikae with us and he was not happy at being exposed to them. They took this for maybe 3 minutes and then vanished. We saw nothing of them again but their calls continued for the next 2 days so we knew they were still around.
By late afternoon we came to the hamlet of Ibaiu having 7 houses and about 60 people. The people appeared to be quite friendly, but mindful of the last few days, we traded across “tambu” signs but had no problems with them.
Day 11…..9 June 60
Breaking camp in the early morning, we moved off downhill, fording a small river and then up, up and up a ridgeline to the north east. The rain was bucketing down; the rain forest was thick and numerous fallen trees made it even more difficult. We came to the hamlet of Ibaiu 2 mid morning and received a less than friendly greeting. From here, a small trail lead on roughly to the north and we followed this until early in the afternoon when we came upon a series of large waterfalls; some being as high as 150 feet. This made for most difficult going, as we were forced to alternatively wade and rock up for the rest of the day; but it did lead us in the right direction.
By late afternoon we moved in to the small hamlet of Ipau 1 at the start of another ridge moving to the north so fortune remained with us. We saw another 5 hamlets in the same area; all separated by ridgelines, and guessed the total numbers being about the 150 mark. By 4.30 PM we were enveloped by cloud and visibility was nil.
Day 12…..10 June 60
Titi the interpreter proved to be difficult this morning. He claimed that he had been dreaming that night and that an enemy had been making bad magic against him. He certainly didn’t look too well, but we eventually persuaded him to move on and food won him over.
Moving on we climbed a series of ridgelines that ran between north east and north west; the rain was bucketing down and heavy cloud sat on us. We were impeded heavily by fallen greasy logs and going was not easy. On this day we forded seven small rivers and passed through 9 small hamlets.
Late afternoon we came to the hamlet of Pewabangga and set up camp. The rain continued to bucket down all night and was accompanied by strong winds making us all quite miserable.
Day 13….11 Jun 60
From here we moved on after breakfast generally to the north along a spur line holding stands of both rain forest and kunai grass. This led us to Aiewa Creek which was forded and led us to a hamlet of the Kadsiago people. They spoke a mixture of poor Pidgin English and Police Motu, and told me that there was an appointed Luluai here. He agreed to guide us to Menyamya from here so we set off again down a ridge to the east after an early lunch break. We crossed Hangima Creek and moved up another spur to the north. Here the Luluai declared that he was lost though the track we had followed from Kadsiago was well defined.
I decided to break bush and moved up a ridge to the north. The going was through rain forest and fairly easy though steep. We broke out into open kunai in the early afternoon and continued to move to the north. This was not easy as the ridge was steep and greasy. We were much rewarded however, as late in the afternoon we saw from a distance what had to be the Tauri River, for it was large, rocky and swiftly flowing. I just knew then that it would lead us to Menyamya. Our spirits revived considerably and we set up camp with a lot of pleasant chatter.
Day 14…12 Jun 60
Moving off after an early breakfast and being guided by the Luluai we picked our way up the right bank of the Tauri. This proved to be quite dangerous as it was very sheer out of the water to the ridgeline above and the rocks did not give a safe footing. By mid morning the track had still not been discovered and on questioning, the Luluai told me that the previous day he had been chasing a cassowary instead of searching for the track.
This left me speechless, so I ignored him from there on and decided to break bush and attempt to reach the ridgeline. After a steep and most arduous climb, we reached the top, though heavy rain was falling. Here we broke out into a large kunai patch through which a well-defined foot pad ran. This we followed, eventually reaching the Tauri about lunch time.
Here the Tauri runs through a gorge some 60 feet wide with the water flowing about 80 feet below. There was no sign as to how the locals managed to cross but we could clearly see the track continuing on the other side.
In anticipation of its need we had a 100 foot length of nylon rope and Saila clambered down the gorge, swam it across and looped it around a large boulder. We looped our equipment onto it to swing it across and then most carefully followed two at a time. Hevovo was the last across. He untied the nylon and swam over at a steep angle imitating Saila. The whole affair took about 2 hours and of course our equipment was well and truly soaked. Pikae gathered firewood to assist in the drying process.
Spirits remained high however despite the steep going and the greasy track. We made good time; the kunai was short and the sun was hot so this was most helpful. In mid afternoon we came upon a dry water course with a number of trees in it so decided to make the nights camp there. Good water was found about 4 feet down and this was a real bonus.
A little later, a young boy aged about 10 arrived and volunteered to guide us through to the village of Katanga the next day. We fed him and gave him a shirt. He had received some education at the Catholic Mission at Menyamya and was the first Pidgin English speaker we had come across. I estimated that we had crossed over from Papua into the Mandated Territory of New Guinea about lunchtime.
Day 15…13 June 60
We broke camp early in the morning and moved off through alternate patches of kunai and rain forest. A steep ascent was encountered shortly afterwards and this continued until near lunch when we moved in to Katanga, a quite large place having some 27 houses and about 150 people. The people were very friendly, gave us sugar cane and taro in return for stick tobacco and beads. About 20-25 accompanied us from then on.
From here, an almost vertical ascent was made, proving most difficult due to heavy rain. We descended in to Pipi village after reaching the top and at 12 noon sighted Menyamya in the distance on a bearing of 21 degrees. It appeared to be quite close. Alas, it seems that we were lead astray by a mirage for by the end of the day we seemed to be no closer! Heavy rain fell again that night and it was bitterly cold.
Day 16…14 June 60
We broke camp the next morning and followed the track through short kunai, it again being in sections of short and steep ascents and descents. At midday, kunai some 7-8 feet high was encountered and we remained in this until reaching the Tauri River ford near the Menyamya mission station.
This was crossed and we then moved on, arriving at the patrol post at 1.30 PM and being met by the PO Terry Mitchell, CPO Warren Smith and EMA Aldo Petros. The patrol was quartered in the police barracks and Mr. Mitchell invited me to stay in his house.
Day 17…15 June 60
A well deserved rest day. Pikae washed all of our clothes, rations were allotted sufficient to get us to Lae and there was time to relax a little. Terry had ordered in extra rum for me!
Menyamya had been established as a patrol post by Lloyd Hurrell in 1951 because it had the only flat ground for many miles around suitable for development of a light aircraft strip. It is however, situated almost in the geographical centre of the Kukukuku country making it ideal for controlling the surrounding country. Although 9 years have passed since the post establishment, murders are still not an uncommon occurrence and at the time of our presence, a third of the prisoners in the compound were convicted murderers.
Day 18….16 June 60
The patrol moved out of Menyamya after an early breakfast. A well-developed track up to 4 feet wide was followed; the surrounding country being short kunai and gently undulating in nature. The Wapi River was forded in the late morning and the village of Sikwong was reached at noon. From here, an extremely steep ascent was made through rain forest. The going was made particularly difficult by heavy rain which turned the track into a quagmire. The troops, not wearing footwear, were able to get a certain amount of traction but my boot studs picked up the clay making walking quite strenuous.
We had been strengthened by the addition of two police from the station together with 7 prisoners all destined for the station at Slate Creek some 6 or 7 days away. This was to do us no good in the coming days.
In the early afternoon, Hisimitavi and Torokin both complained of being unwell and their rifles and packs were taken from them. Heavy rain fell all afternoon and a bitterly cold wind was blowing. A campsite was selected about 3.30 PM and by comparing known heights I estimated that we were about 9000-10,000 feet ASL. By this time both men were feverish and their temperatures were on the rise. All had a particularly miserable night and little sleep was gained. Saila and I shared blankets; Hisimitavi and Torokin slept with the rest of the troops but it did them little good.
Day 19….17 June 60
We broke camp at 8.30 AM. Heavy rain was still falling, the wind was screaming around us and Hisa and Toro were still sick. All their equipment was carried for them and I assigned Pikae and Meva to help them along. We started with a steep climb but after about half an hour the track leveled out and it was much easier. It was still quite wide though a quagmire, and short, steep ascents and descents were made until we reached the Oiwa area about noon. Large well kept gardens were scattered about the area and we were impeded heavily by fallen greasy logs.
All this time we were getting calls from the locals. They were crowding in on us and declaring their intention to release the prisoners. The cops were nervous and so was I. Men would jump onto the track in front of us; make threatening advances with axes and bows and arrows and then leap away again. They were in my rear as well and I was starting to feel a little ill. I sent Saila to the rear with one of the cops. They both had shotguns loaded with bird shot and I told him that legs were the targets. I had faith in his ability to get control.
In mid afternoon we stopped to brew up and I joined Saila. The locals were still there and yelling at us. I decided to be a bit more positive so I faced up to them and they scarpered off. We never saw them again that day, but they were still around for the next few hours as we could hear their abuse. By about 4 PM the storm clouds were growing. And then fortune showed; a small government rest house appeared; we crowded into it, ate a miserable meal and set guards. I tossed around with worry all night and was relieved when Saila offered me a cup of tea.
DAY 20 18 June 60
Saila woke me about 4 AM. He was concerned with Hisa who had had a really bad night. Hisa was distinctly unhappy. He was refusing food and was burning away. Now it looked as if Toro was in a bad way as well. I checked out Toro and felt that he had pneumonia. I fed him tea and Aspro and held his hand and spoke to him about old times, for I had trained him as a recruit soldier.
Daylight came to the Watut Divide, which means that you can see the rain and the mist and the mud. Saila and I ate rice and drank tea and discussed a plan of action. There was little choice. We knew that some distance ahead of us was the Aseki Mission Station which had a small airstrip but I was worried that I did not have the means to get the pair of them to safety. Commonsense told me that I should keep the team together but I was short on resources. Clearly I could not leave them behind.
The decision was quick. We had passed through a hamlet the previous afternoon. I gathered Omas and Pikae and we set off to cajole assistance from the locals – Omas because he was big and strong and Pikae because I was determined to get my pound of flesh out of him before I asked the CO to discharge him.
The three of us hurried off carrying a rifle, water bottle and a blanket each with a pocketful of boiled rice. Speed to get help was foremost in my mind.
Unimpeded with much gear, we made fair speed. Fear for my soldiers drove me on but the howling wind and rain added to my problems.
We ran into Peiwopo about 3PM. I sought out the head man and attempted to explain my problem and seek his help. He remained unmoved, folded his arms and spat at me.
I was cold, wet and very weary; I had two soldiers dying and here was this bugger laughing at my distress. I blew. I grabbed him by the ear, put him in the mud and in my worst Kukukuku told him that I was on government business and that he should heed me.
A mug of tea and a handful of rice and we were ready to go….jog-trotting on the down slopes and wearily plodding up and sliding down the uphill sections.
He was less than happy being loaded up with a woman’s string bag full of vegetables together with a bundle of firewood. Sensing that he was ready to recant, I put him and his three wives at point and used Omas to prod them along.
DAY 21
We got away about 7AM the next morning. I tied my unwilling carriers together with parachute cord.
It was not easy. The wind howled around us, the mud slowed us down and the rain was freezing. The locals kept up with their calls as well. I walked beside Hisa and Toro when it was possible….they were not well at all and I was worrying very deeply for them. The trail remained foul. The red mud sucked away at us and the prisoners kept calling out to their friends in the scrub. We stopped several times to brew up, stuff the sick with Aspro and met the people.
They were not friendly. I had little doubt that my prisoners would have knocked us on the head and run for it given a small chance.
And then in the late afternoon one of the cops came back to me with great news. One more massive climb to make and Aseki was in the valley on the other side of it.
We all felt good. The climb was dreadful and we slipped backwards frequently, but progress was made and the top was finally reached. We had a breather and set off again. The track was in fair condition but greasy and we fell a lot, but forward we went. The mission airstrip appeared out of the gloom, fog, and rain. Pretty much the same as most strips in PNG; almost inaccessible; rough, short and handmade and finishing at the foot of a mountain.
Finally we straggled into Aseki, for I fear we were most unsoldierly. By mission standards Aseki was pretty comfortable. Airstrip, trade store and small hospital (though really a get-well shelter) and a small group of ordained and lay missionaries who ran the school and dispensary, provided weather reports, tended weary soldiers and spread the word of God.
They were good people; they fed us and gave us shelter and we needed nothing else.
I spoke to Mr Travers about Hisa and Toro; he had better pills than aspro for them and was due on the daily radio sked the next morning. He would call in the first available mission plane the next morning. I slept well that night.
Day 22 20 June 60
The day started with a good omen; nothing but a light rain shower so I set the troops to cleaning themselves up. Pikae was tasked with rifle cleaning and blanket drying. The sun was doing its best to come through as well.
And then about lunch time in came the mission plane…a four-seater Cessna and just what we wanted. I spoke to the pilot…..get the fellows into hospital in Lae; send a telegram to Taurama Barracks in Port Moresby for me and I’ll see him in a weeks time.
Day 23 21June 1960
All feeling very relaxed, we set off again in the late morning. Our clothes were dry, we were relieved of the worry concerning Hisa and Toro and we had left the Kukukuku people behind. For some reason, the prisoners were in a happy mood as well. The track remained well defined though muddy and there was no let up from the steepness.
Day 24 22June 1960
The main aim from here on was to get to Slate Creek. Here we were to make contact with Bert Jaensch who was a long-term gold miner, coast watcher and labour contractor. Bert was to give us quarters of some description until transport arrived from Lae for us. The trail to Slate Creek was well defined and passed through gently undulating country; very much a relief for us. Bert was waiting for us and turned out to be a real bird. He had been in New Guinea since pre-war days; exploring for gold around Wau and Bulolo, running a trade store and “black birding” labour. Bert also worked around the Markham Valley, Lae and the hills to the east of Scarlet Beach prior to the assault there. He had a great recipe for rum eggnog.
Slate Creek is an old gold mining centre but present day results are not huge.
Not much later a 3 tonner arrived from A Coy PNGVR and carried us to Bulolo. Here we washed and had a meal; I spoke to the local Assistant District Officer and passed over the prisoners and we set off for Lae, finally arriving there around midnight. We settled down in the Drill hall for the remainder of the night.
Day 25 23 June 60
I called on the District Commissioner, Mr. Horrie Niall during the afternoon and briefed him on our journey; many years later he was to become the Speaker in the PNG Parliament. He introduced me to Brig Stan Eskell who was Comd 14 INF Bde and director of the local newspaper.
The remainder of the day was spent in local admin. The troops scrubbed clothes and cleaned weapons and I took several of them with me to Lae Hospital to satisfy myself that Hisa and Toro were on the mend. I was relieved to find them in fair spirits and made arrangements to have them flown to Moresby.
Day 26 24 June 60
I was advised that the generator on ‘FERN’ had broken down so our departure was delayed.
Days 27-31 25Jun -1 Jul 60
‘FERN’ complete with the patrol departed Lae at 0730. A strong SE wind was blowing and this continued all the way to Milne Bay and Samarai. ‘FERN’ anchored at Tufi and Samarai because of the poor weather and Port Moresby was finally reached at 1540 hrs 30 June 60.
And this is when I was advised that there was a letter waiting for me.
Was it worth it all? Without a doubt, and I waited to be called upon again!!!
Our regimental motto was ‘To Find a Path’ and so we did.