Command by Major Gerald O’Day, 1957

The new Officer Administering Command arrived at Jackson’s Strip two days later. A quarter guard had been arranged by the OC C Coy Major K.S. McKenzie and after a quick visit to his married quarter Gerry O’Day ploughed into Taurama Barracks like the bow wave in front of an aircraft carrier. This marked the style of his command that lasted to the end of the year. Everything had to happen yesterday, birds ceased to sit on the trees since the loud orders, directions, criticisms and abuse was constant. In his initial briefing to a bewildered Adjutant, he gave out three tasks. Firstly, he wanted a rewrite of the relief of the outstation instruction. Apparently the current one had caused nightmares. Among the problems there were planes that didn’t turn up, some grounded by weather or having not been ordered for the right airstrip. The most difficult problem was the delay caused by the keystone of the means to resupply and to make the troop exchange, the transport vessel AV Tarra. It had berthed for an extra week in Madang because Captain Stark the Master allegedly had a special friendship with Flo Gilmour the proprietor of the Madang Pub. Everything went haywire. All in all, some drastic amendments were obvious.

The second task was to write a patrol plan as a matter of urgency. B and C Companies were being prepared to depart to relieve the companies on outstation in a few weeks’ time and the company commanders were screaming for direction. Thirdly, a Captain Geoff Ord, a psych officer, was due to arrive to assist the recruiting officer, Major Don Barrett on loan from the Rabaul Company, Papua New Guinea Volunteer Rifles (CMF), they were to form a team to carry out the annual recruiting drive. A briefing by PNG Administration at Konedobu as to where PIR could recruit was overdue. The adjutant would need to check the establishment to the parade state to determine the number of vacancies, check the outstation companies for their estimate on how many “time expired” soldiers would not sign on again to be added to the number. The recruiters needed this total to inform the Admin people. Gerry said “That should keep you busy for a while Adjutant. And remember all other routine stuff is to go on while this is happening.”

The “Routine” began a few days later. Four prisoners escaped from Bomana Jail and terrorised Badili and Koki. The Royal Papuan and New Guinea Constabulary RPNGC did not seem to be able to catch them, so the Administrator called out the army to aid the civil power. B Coy under Major Bob Murdock lined up at Murray Barracks and Ken McKenzie’s C Coy passed through by truck to Iduabada. They closed in. They did not find anybody, so it was done again in reverse. On the third day suddenly two blokes broke out of hiding near the water’s edge near the flying boat base and were brought down with rugby tackles. B Coy found another cowering in a spoon drain. The cops got the last one walking down the road near “Steamies” in Moresby itself. When all congratulations were over and a belated meal and beer was being consumed, somebody said “Where is Thross?” Sergeant Tiacap, Signals Platoon sergeant went looking and found him on top of the conical island above the wreck of the S.S Macdhui. His radio batteries were flat, but he was continuing to try to re-establish communications. There are a thousand stories about Ian Throssell. With all this going on no Adjutant type work had been done that week. Time was running out.

Exhausted after a hectic day, sleep came immediately but about midnight the duty officer, the same S.Sgt Beard woke him up to tell him that a dead body had been found on top of the Armoury. Police were notified and a preliminary examination of the scene began. Careful not to contaminate the scene, the two men noted that the distance from the protective bund was too far for the body to have been thrown up on to the roof. By torch no footprints, ladder impressions or other marks could be seen on the carefully raked sand around the building. By daylight, Inspector Woodmancy the CIB man confirmed the findings. No explanation could be offered to explain how the body got up there. The body was taken to the native hospital morgue but no cause of death could be established. “Died of Fright” was the best the doctors could say. Sgt Stevenson brought the RP Sergeant Biri into the office. Quietly they revealed the victim’s name and explained that the man had broken tribal law and that a “masali meri” on a white horse had visited the man in the barracks and thrown him up on the roof. Steve said, “It is something belonging to us sir you must not concern yourself with it.” They quoted the final chapters of Revelations in the mission Bible. Seems the version of interpretation of what they had learned from the London Bible Society got twisted up a bit. The Adjutant’s in tray beckoned, there were other problems to face.

There was a degree of reasonable logic in what Jerry came up with next. He rarely came into the adjutant’s office he usually summoned him by a bellow “Get ya arse in here Flint.” The Patrol Plan had not yet even been thought about. Jerry said “You will not be able to write a draft patrol plan before you have been to the outstations, talked to the District Commissioners and their staff and found out what the Administration would like us to do. You will do a tour of the outstations as soon as you can.” Arrangements were soon made to catch the DC4 from Sydney that terminated at Lae, wait for the Qantas LB weekly service next morning that goes from Lae via Madang and the passenger is to get off at Wewak. The plane will go on to Momote Airport and Rabaul and then back to Lae. The overnight stop at Lae was relaxing but at Wewak, the stopover at the Wewak Point Hotel was out of this world. The clientele was composed of croc hunters, adventurers, drunks and all kinds of backwoods people. One stood out, one Peter Mansell. He held the floor in continuous argument on subjects ranging widely, washed down by an endless glass after glass of lukewarm beer. Quite late, when the beer was finally turned off, he turned to the publican and said, “Better get this man a bed, (pointing to the Adjutant) he is coming with me to Vanimo tomorrow”.

True to his word the bleary-eyed pilot managed to take off in a “Norseman” aircraft at dawn the next day albeit a bit unsteady. The Norseman, a Canadian single engine plane designed to land on ice, landed on several strips on the way to the camp and finally landed on the pocket handkerchief sized strip at Vanimo. A flurry of soldiers swarmed over the plane practically stripping it of its contents then within minutes loading people and cargo back on. The local Patrol Officer fed Peter with a cold can out of a ‘esky’ and the plane taxied down to the leeward end of the strip. A dozen PIR soldiers lined the wing as Peter revved up the engine to a fever pitch. A wave of the arm was the signal for the lads to let go and the plane surged forward past the end of the strip, barely missing the water before it climbed. The soldiers knew the drill. There would be many landings on this strip, repeated over the next few years and each one threatened to be the last. Work for the Adjutant to be done at the out station was routine and was seemingly unnecessary but Major Ted Smith RAASC seemed to relish the stamp of approval. The highlight of the visit which lasted the whole week until Peter Mansell returned the following Friday was the celebration of ANZAC Day. Suitably infused with rum, the whole European staff boarded a ‘pinnace’ (a motor boat), and re-enacted the Gallipoli landing at precisely the right hour. Work for the Patrol Plan took the remaining time. A conference with the Patrol Officer and Major Smith present discussed what was needed and a piece of paper making it official was made. The detail on the maps was explained because much of the map was endorsed “cloud covered” and little detail was available to a reader. Most of the patrols had been done before, why they were to be done again was not explained.

Back to Wewak, another night in the Wewak Pub and the LB headed off to Manus. Much the same information for patrolling came from the District Officer in Lorengau. The Naval Base at HMAS Tarangau, commanded by the NOICNEA, Captain J Tapp provided a promise of transportation around the Island if required and within reason and a germ of an idea formed which took two years to get off the ground. The new OC, Major Harry Sayers had not yet arrived, but Lieutenant “Skull” Musgrave did the honours very well. The patrol plan for Manus was easy, the island was not very big. The last stop at Rabaul was hosted by Major Don Barrett OC of the PNGVR Company at Rabaul soon to be the 2i/c of PIR replacing Major Mackie, who had completed his two-year posting. Back to the strip to board the LB Flight to Lae was just in time to catch the Sydney plane to the South. The only seat available was a stool in the pilot’s compartment. Nobody seemed to care. Returning to Taurama, the exhausted adjutant returned to an even fuller ‘in’ tray and an exhortation from The CO to “Get on with it, remember you have to do the outstation change over plan as soon as you have written the patrol plan”. Time was running out. However, armed with the information collected, the draft paper seemed to flow out easily. But when it was presented to the CO, it came back with more red ink on it than black. “Re-write this shit Flint, it’s not nearly good enough.” The Change of Outstation Instruction suffered similar treatment. Gerry couldn’t forget that he was no longer a DS at the School of Tactics and Administration.

Weekends were not much different to the day-to-day stuff and never short of unique problems. A previous quartermaster Lionel Oxlade now a farmer at 17 Mile had introduced herds of goats and pigs to provide food during “sing sings” which were periodical celebrations too numerous to define. They were housed in well-constructed native structures of jungle thatch. The current QM Ted Russell was not as dedicated as Lionel and maintenance was a bit slack. The cry went up “The goats are out- ol i go pinis.” All who could be gathered formed a line over the hills towards Jacksons Strip and chased the herd until dark. Cornering them was impossible on foot. Just as they were grouped, the Alpha Male would break out and the herd was gone (again). Next day OC C Coy Ken McKenzie said, “C Coy will catch them.” Fine words, they came home empty handed. Command decision from the CO followed. Jerry said “Dick, go down to Tubersai village and tell them that the goats are theirs.” The goats were never seen again.

Since the Queen’s Birthday was looming, Gerry suddenly decided that the Regiment would “Troop the Colours” at Ela Beach Oval. “Adjutant, you have been a ‘Drillie’ at Wacol get on it, train the parade, you’ve got a drill book haven’t you?” The RSM and he measured up the Ela Beach area and counted the troop numbers. Overtures to RP&NGC initially negative were grudgingly agreed to and PNGVR said they might be able to find enough people to “hold ground”. WO 1 Lou MacLennan Pipe Major was enthusiastic, probably the only one who was. Sgt Telek Tako, Drum Major said “Wanem samting? Mi no savvy dispela samting.” At fast speed, Officers and Warrant Officers commanding Guards were drilled separately until the RSM was satisfied that they wouldn’t look stupid in front of the troops. Then there was the little matter of sword drill. RMC officers were well skilled, but the Portsea officers were not so expert. Fortunately, Lieutenant Adrian Clunies-Ross was a tower of strength and thumped some sense into everybody. Adrian was to carry the Queen’s Colour, but it was decided that the Regimental Colour should not be seen. There are still arguments about that. Several sessions on the battalion parade ground sorted the men out. They took to it with willingness. PIR soldiers loved a ceremony. When he was sure he knew what it was all about, Sgt Stevenson told the parade what they had to do and there were nods everywhere. When he shouted “Ol i savvy?” the parade roared back “yes sir”. The parade turned out to be quite a hit with the Moresby spectators. Getting there and back was an administrative nightmare but the South Pacific Press gave it an A Plus so all turned out well. But the ‘in’ tray never emptied.

That done Major O’Day turned his thoughts to officer training. He wrote a Tactical Exercise Without Troops (TEWT) which was to be located between the camp and Bootless Bay. He chose a Saturday morning because all he saw officers doing was standing about watching the troops clean up the barracks and cutting grass. The officers were gathered for what they thought was a cup of tea or a beer only to be handed the problem and given limits of reconnaissance and a RV and time for discussion. The grumpy officers moved out on the verge of mutiny but having got into the swing of things the next four hours turned out to reveal a topical difficulty with several solutions which developed into a heated exchange most ably manipulated by Gerry. The Adjutant knew his style having experienced it as a student at Seymour. Gerry was a past master at getting the best out of a complex problem. When it was over and many beers later the arguments went on for much longer than expected. Gerry got into his staff car with a sly grin.

Four months had passed before Major Arch Lukin, DAQMG Area Command advised Dick that a temporary married quarter could be available in two weeks. The quarter was inspected. It was a corrugated iron roof hut with tar paper walls. It looked like an old orderly room. There was a central room still with the counter and a table and four chairs. A couple of bamboo easy chairs were in a corner. A doorway led to a kitchen with a single plate electric stove and a sink and bench. Out back there was an earth closet. On either side of the central room there were bedrooms with two beds in each and a free-standing bedside locker. A rusty bath in an outhouse did not look too good. That was it, but to have the family come up earlier was very persuasive. Arch said that if it was not taken, a wait of another month would happen before Major Smith currently at Vanimo would be back to attend a Tac 5 Exam. Then Dick could have his house. An emergency phone call was permitted to parents since no phones were fitted to the MQ at Wacol. A frantic scurry ensued. RACQ took the car to the wharf and booked it on the Burns Philip ship named “SS Bulolo” departing in a few days.

Frantic packing of furniture not permitted for entry to PNG was put in store and personal stuff assembled. The deadline was met and wife Lyndall and two children under five duly arrived at Jacksons Airport late in August. She took one look at the house and the look directed at the hapless Adjutant would haunt him for the rest of his life. It turned out well in the end for in a short three weeks the family moved into the magnificent quarter with seven hundred louvers. The tar paper house was demolished the day they left and a modern quarter replaced it. Within weeks Lyndall had been appointed an education officer grade two and begun work at Ela Beach Primary.

1957 was moving quickly and a posting order arrived announcing that Lt Col Luke McGuinn MC was to assume command on 1 August. Gerry had high hopes that he might be promoted and to continue in command with an extension of service. There was obvious disappointment in his voice when the posting order was shown to him. When Luke arrived, the hand over was clouded with professional disagreements. Both officers had seen extensive war service in WW2 in North Africa and the Pacific theatre. Gerry had service in 2/14th and had been badly wounded. Luke had been in Special Forces, training Independent companies on Fraser Island for service in Timor and the Solomon Islands. The Adjutant became the meat in the sandwich. Nobody else seemed to want to intervene. The arguments became louder, and the hand over ceased abruptly when Gerry said, “Get me on the next plane Dick.” A sort of vacuum followed. The ship had no rudder for a while.

Vol 3: Education by Immersion …