from 29 March 1957 to 23 August 1961
Command by Lieutenant Colonel Luke McGuinn MC, 1957-59
As the new Colonel got his feet under the table a new era began. There were few changes but new problems. B and C Companies completed a complex changeover of outstations. After consulting the Administrator Lt Col McGuinn devised a plan to traverse the country from North to South from Vanimo to Daru. The plan was to celebrate the eleventh birthday of the re-formed regiment. The route was to be from Vanimo via Green River on the Sepik to its headwaters, a climb up to Telefomin then South to the headwaters of the Fly River. Much of the patrol would be by canoes but there would be plenty of footslogging. B Company was to do the first two legs from Vanimo via Green River and the climb up to Telefomin, while A Company was to do the long trek from there to Daru. The whole mission was to be at platoon level with long carrier lines pre-dumping stuff at Green River while A Coy would patrol through a resupply dump at Kiarva and Munga River. The Administration co-operation was surprisingly willing. Nobody got lost even though there were no reliable maps and a complete lack of radio communication. Young officers gained a hell of a lot of self-confidence and their command of the language thrived. General Daly was apparently pleased with the plan. That was until a nasty business blew up.
Officer training ceased on Saturday mornings and work reverted to grass cutting and cleaning up the barracks again. About eleven o’clock the officers drifted up to the mess to greet visitors and to have a drink in the ‘house win’. Honorary members mainly ex Papuan Infantry Battalion people were regulars but there were often a few RP&NGC policemen and the odd Administration people from Konedobu coming along. Luke’s only command of the Melanesian language was “wanpela VB i kam” and having acquired one he sat down with his ankle on his opposite knee. The issue shorts were at the time “Bombay Bloomers”. As he crossed his legs, this exposed the lack of underwear and a view of his family jewels. Subalterns were instructed to sit opposite to prevent wives of visitors from embarrassment. The talk heated up. Luke called the Quartermaster over and whispered something to him where upon the QM approached the Adjutant and said that he wanted a word with him. They both disappeared into the Mess toilet. On emerging, both had a captain’s badge of rank on the right shoulder. Luke called for attention and announced that the Adjutant had been promoted to Captain. Some applause was interrupted by Luke who bellowed “I have never seen an officer promoted in a shithouse. Ted, take Flint down to the clothing store and dress him properly.” A pay rise followed. No higher duties payment had been received over the last nine months because there were already three Captains filling the establishment. Paddy Hallinan’s departure a few weeks before hand created the vacancy. How Luke managed to make the promotion happen without the Adjutant knowing is an unsolved mystery.
A young cook went on leave to Koki market apparently not to buy fish, but to see if he could get lucky. He tapped a Kerema lass on the shoulder and made a proposition. The husband was nearby and saw the whole thing. He promptly decked the hapless bait layer with a swipe even Mohammed Ali could not better. But another soldier saw what had happened and hot footed back to Taurama. Nobody will ever know what story he told but the first thing the duty staff saw was a mob with their leather belts wrapped around their fists chanting something which sounded like “Get all Keremas” or something like it. The CO was warned, he having the only telephone in his house and he went down to the entrance of Murray Barracks. He stood in the middle of the road as the mob turned out of Taurama Road heading for Three Mile Hill. The mob ignored the CO walking around him. He afterwards said that he felt like King Canute. They avoided all staff and ignored them too. Other staff travelled to Badili by car and attempted a roadblock. There the mob seemed to run out of steam a bit as the Quartermaster brandished a pistol. This seemed to galvanise the Sergeants who then started to bellow in several languages mainly Motu. The mob turned strangely quiet. One of the senior Sergeants nominated Sergeant Esom as marker, ordered “On your Marker fall in.” They did and, no longer a mob, they marched briskly and quietly back to barracks. The total distance would have been all of ten miles.
The Adjutant, assisted by Sgt Stevenson were appointed investigating officers and witnesses were interviewed. The whole thing was simple. Bad blood existed between most soldiers and the Keremas. There had been a rock throwing incident down by the RAP a year or so back where this enmity had raised its ugly head, but it had blown over. So, this (so called) riot had been brewing for some time. The cook incident was the trigger. The regiment was set to clear all Keremas out of Port Moresby. At Badili the Sergeants took control reminding (loudly) the troops that they were “Ol i bilong quin missus, pasin bilong yupela bikpela shame.” and above all this inter-village nose punching was to stop and they should be ashamed of themselves. The moral of the matter was that the Officers ought to get a better alignment with the troops and spend more time with them and less boozing in the mess. The Sergeants were the real strength of the regiment and tribal leaders were to be persuaded that the tribe of PIR took precedence over the districts they came from. The enmity between some Tolais and Keremas went under the surface but never became evident again. The Press gave the Regiment a bit of a caning but when the reason was known at least by the Officers it resulted in a plan to keep the lads a bit more busy.
Wise old Luke decided that more training was indicated so he went out to the Goldie River area where the recruit training had been located. Two warrant officers had been doing this work for some time having asked for and got extension of their postings. Charlie Scholl and his mate Ron Macgregor had a good system going with rudimentary support and they were pretty much left to their own devices. Their product was so good that successive commanding officers saw no need to interfere. A new area was to be found, not too far away so that some facilities could be shared. Major James and D Company were given the job to develop a camp. The jungle was pretty thick, and the Goldie River was a barrier to a site which would be ideal. Some weeks later the area started to look like training could start. A crossing was needed and fortunately a giant kwila tree was just in the right position. It was about three feet thick and a cricket pitch in height. The lads swarmed up and hacked off the branches and set about the cut at the base. Somebody said, “A well trained Infantryman can do anything.” The giant tree fell almost exactly where it was to fall, and the Quartermaster borrowed some adzes from the Forestry depot at Iduabada and a flat walkway about a foot wide appeared on the upside like magic. Within a week a pungal and moratai house was built where stores, cooking and a few spaces for sleeping became available. This structure afterward became a temporary officers’ mess and a place remembered by many visitors. It might be still there. Modern Goldie is very sophisticated but that’s how it started.
Luke McGuinn’s tenure was coming to a close and one of the many visits by GOC Northern Command Major General Tom Daly had been notified. The Regiment always wanted to do something special for the General because they knew that he placed a firm emphasis on what was being done. They were especially fond of the Friday afternoon Retreat Ceremony and the changing of the Quarter Guard. Invited guests were a common occurrence and the thespian character existing in most tribes was evident. They loved dressing up and making a show as they did in the villages during their “sing sings”. The participants were in No1 dress and most of the off-duty soldiers lined the parade ground in their best lap laps. Behind the saluting base chairs were put out for the visitors and guides and chair wipers hovered around aching to impress. All was being prepared. That night they knew that there was going to be a special Dining night in the Officers’ mess and “bilas” (decoration) has been hung around the ‘house win’. The General arrived having paid respects to the Administrator and stopped by HQ Area Command. He urgently desired to take a shower. Mrs Daly would be coming later with the Clelands, but Uncle Tom was holed up in No 1 room. Wrapped in a towel he came down to the showers and lathered up. The water stopped. The cantankerous pump has jammed again, and Sgt Elwell had not been told or noticed.
Corporal Bogata raced off cross country down to the transport compound yelling for Corporal Tolum. “Kisim truk wara. No1 bilong ol i nogat wara long was was.” Tolum mounted the truck and at the speed of a fire engine raced up the road past the Chapel, turned on to the main road and skidded around to the back of the Mess. He started the auxiliary engine and hosed the General down with some pressure. By now some young Officers had assembled with fire buckets from the kitchen, but they were not needed. Happily, the General saw the funny side of it and thanked Tolum profusely and retired to the No1 room. As an after note, the guard change went well as did the bun fight in the mess. General Tom dined out on that story many times later in life. Once at Duntroon many years later Captain Flint now the Lt Col Admin RMC was timing Generals from Duntroon House to arrive on time to take their salute at the Graduation Parade. When it was his turn, the General now the CGS, out of the side of his mouth, said “Get the water truck ready, Dick.”