CHAPTER SEVEN

As Faraway thrust her bow through the emerald green waters of Van Diemen Gulf in brilliant sunshine, it was still dark two thousand miles to the south where the Prime Minister of Australia anxiously paced the floor of his office in Canberra.

Just four months earlier, fate had decreed that fifty-seven-year-old John Curtin, a socialist, one-time trade union leader, journalist and antimilitarist, should hold the destiny of the nation in his hands at the very time when its greatest fear—the dreaded invasion by the Asian ‘yellow peril’—looked more and more like becoming a reality with every passing hour.

In the short time since taking the reins, Curtin had seen a staggering succession of Allied military reversals resulting in the greatest threat to the tenuous hold of Europeans on the continent of Australia than at any time during the course of the nation’s entire history. Not the least was the loss of the supposedly impregnable British fortress of Singapore and with it the grim realization that the Royal Navy could no longer guarantee Australia’s security as it had for over a hundred and sixty years. Now the bombing of Darwin had brought the Pacific War to Australia’s very shores and Curtin had been forced into action.

Following a secret session of Parliament he had authorized the sending of a cable to Winston Churchill in London, demanding the return of the fifty thousand men of the Australian Imperial Force serving with the British forces overseas. He had stated emphatically that the Imperial Force, already weakened by severe losses in Malaya, Singapore and the Dutch East Indies, were the only seasoned soldiers Australia had and they were now desperately needed to defend their homeland against an imminent Japanese invasion.

The cable was the most recent of several forceful exchanges over the past week between Curtin to Churchill. It left no room for maneuvering by the British Prime Minister whose intransigence on the matter prior to the bombing of Darwin had been absolute, insisting the bulk of the Imperial Force be deployed in the defense of Burma, to where a convoy was already taking them.

Curtin continued to pace the floor. He hoped the decision to recall the 6^th and 7^th Divisions of the Imperial Force hadn’t been taken too late. It would still be some time before the convoy carrying the troops could return to Australia. In the meantime, with much of the Royal Australian Navy serving abroad with the Royal Navy, and the cream of the Royal Australian Air Force engaged in Europe and the Middle East, Australia would have to rely on around eighty thousand untrained and poorly equipped conscripted militia soldiers, many of whom had never held a rifle let alone fired one.

But Curtin was heartened by the fact that not every setback of the past few months had been a total disaster for Australia. The successful attack on the United States Pacific Fleet at Pearl Harbor, and the United States Army Air Force in the Philippines, had made Australia a natural staging area from where the Americans could halt Japan’s advance across the Pacific.

The few American aircraft that had escaped destruction in the Philippines, mainly P-40 fighters and B.17 bombers, had already been sent to Australia and more men and equipment were beginning to arrive from the United States. The first Americans had come aboard an eight-ship convoy of men and equipment escorted by the cruiser USS Pensacola, which had been diverted to Brisbane while en route from San Francisco to Manila at the time of the Japanese attacks on Pearl Harbor and the Philippines.

Three days after the Pensacola convoy reached Brisbane, Curtin had made an emotional public appeal to the United States to help Australia in her hour of need. The appeal fortunately coincided with an American plan to wage war on Japan from Australia. Although the arrival of the Americans was unheralded, because of strict government censorship of troop movements, the sight of American servicemen on the streets of Australia’s capital cities had become commonplace in recent weeks.

Curtin knew the presence of the Americans gave heart to an increasingly alarmed Australian public which, until the entry of Japan into the war, had generally treated the far-off European conflict with casual indifference. But now, with the bombing of Darwin, Australians were afraid as they had never been before, even though the official government censor, newspaper magnate Keith Murdoch, had complied with Curtin’s personal direction to withhold the true extent of the death and destruction from the public.

The Prime Minister walked over to his office window and drew back the curtain. The dawn was just breaking on a new day. Curtin was wondering what it might hold when there was a knock at the door and Frank Forde, the Deputy Prime Minister and Army Minister entered the room.

‘John, wonderful news,’ Forde said with a wide smile on his face. ‘We’ve just had a signal from Washington. President Roosevelt has ordered General Douglas MacArthur to leave the Philippines for Australia to assume command of a new South-west Pacific Theatre.’

*

When Faraway passed through Dundas Strait separating Melville Island and the Coburg Peninsular and nosed into the Arafura Sea, she found a favorable wind. For the first time since leaving Darwin Joe shut down the engine and the ketch entered the almost silent world of sail. The only sound was the chuckle of the ketch’s bow as she gently pushed her way north-easterly through a calm sea.

There had been no sightings of Japanese warplanes or even reconnaissance aircraft all day. The only visual reminder of the horror of Darwin, which now lay a hundred miles astern, was Koko’s small figure sitting alone with his sadness near the bow of the vessel. That night they dropped anchor in Trepang Bay and ate fresh fish which Faith had frying in the pan just minutes after Sunday and Monday had caught them.

The next morning they set a course for Croker Island. It was almost dark when Faraway arrived in Mission Bay. The vessel was well-known at the island and was greeted warmly. That evening, Joe, Faith and Koko dined with the missionaries. They learned of the fearful reaction of the Methodist and Anglican missions across the Top End to the Japanese attack on Darwin. None of the many missions had been evacuated by the Navy as promised. Now, fearing a full-scale Japanese invasion, the missions were using their radio network to try and organize the evacuation of white female staff and mixed-race children themselves, using the church owned lugger Larrpan to transfer evacuees from the islands to the mainland.

The missionaries at Croker Island had decided it was too dangerous for the Larrpan to sail to Darwin because of sightings of Japanese submarines in Van Diemen Gulf being reported over the airwaves. Instead, a plan was being formulated to take all evacuees over seven hundred nautical miles to the south-east, to the mouth of the Roper River in the Gulf of Carpentaria. From there they would travel inland, on the river and overland, over a hundred and fifty miles to Mataranka, a small settlement three hundred miles south of Darwin on the road to Alice Springs.

When one of the priests asked Joe for his opinion of the plan, he expressed reservations. ‘It’s a long, difficult voyage during the cyclone season in the best of circumstances, Father. I know Kolino Saukuru, the master of the Larrpan. He’s a fine sailor and a good missionary, but it is an awesome responsibility he is taking on, having to contend with the Japanese as well as the weather. It’s not one I would want myself.’

The priest glanced apprehensively at the other missionaries seated around the table, then turned back to Joe. ‘When we saw Faraway approaching this afternoon, my son, we knew that your coming was God’s own work, his answer to all our prayers. Because we are the most westerly mission, our evacuees will be the last to be picked up by the Larrpan and that could be weeks away. We know Faraway can’t carry a lot of passengers but since you are sailing eastward we would be more than grateful if you would take some of the younger girls with you.’

Joe didn’t answer right away.

‘You would only lose a couple of days in the Gulf by sailing south to the Roper River,’ the priest urged. ‘You see, it’s the younger mixed-race girls who would be abused the worst by the Japanese.’

Joe was conscious of everyone’s eyes on him, including those of Faith and Koko.

‘We can, of course, provide rations for everyone for the entire voyage, Joe’ the priest persisted. ‘And we’ll arrange for people to be waiting for them when you reach the Roper River.’

‘There must be some other way, Father,’ Joe said, reluctant to commit himself to such a long voyage with evacuees. ‘Are there no other boats?’

‘The only vessel we’ve seen since you were here last, Joe, was a small ketch with two rough looking sea-tramps aboard. They anchored here overnight on their way eastward to the Gulf of Carpentaria. They said they were croc-shooters and volunteered to take some of the girls with them. But we were afraid their fate might be worse on board that vessel than at the hands of the Japanese.’

‘What was the boat’s name?’

‘The Groote Eyelandt Lady’

‘I saw her leaving Darwin. She didn’t look very seaworthy.’

‘I’m afraid we were more concerned about the morals of the men than the condition of their boat, Joe.’

Faith reached out and laid her hand over her bother’s. ‘It’s a huge responsibility for you, Joe. But surely it’s the least we can do. I’ll see to it that the girls don’t get in the way.’

Joe sighed resignedly. ‘All right. We’ll take as many as we can, twelve, perhaps fourteen. But with only basic facilities and accommodation on board we will have to anchor each night and sail only in good weather. You would know well, Father, that the Top End coast is strewn with uncharted reefs and I won’t take any unnecessary risks.’

The priest smiled happily. ‘Your kindness will be repaid a hundred times in this life, Joseph. We will have the girls ready to leave in a few days, just as soon as we can make arrangements for them with the missions along the Roper River. And don’t you worry about your charges, Joe. The Lord has sent you to us and he will see they come to no harm.’

*

An American B-17 Flying Fortress, en route from Mindanao to Batchelor Field in the Northern Territory began its descent over the Coburg Peninsular. As the roar of the huge bomber’s four engines eased, General Douglas MacArthur, tall and handsome, but underweight and sallow from weeks of short rations in the Philippines, peered down at the flat almost featureless face of northern Australia.

It had been almost a month since he had been ordered by the President of the United States to leave his embattled army in the Philippines and take command of US forces in Australia. In July, 1941, MacArthur, a former Chief of Staff of the United States Army, had been serving as military advisor to the newly formed Philippine Commonwealth when he was recalled to active service and given command of all US Army Forces in the Far East. At the same time, by executive order, the entire Philippine army had been inducted into the United States Army to provide the strongest possible deterrent against Japanese aggression in the region.

But less than two months after the start of the Japanese offensive in the Philippines, MacArthur’s combined army of over one hundred thousand men was in tatters and desperately in need of reinforcements and provisions. With the Philippines blockaded by the enemy and with food and munitions rapidly depleting, it was clear the American and Filipino forces were doomed and it was only a matter of time before they were forced to surrender or be wiped out to the last man. Unwilling to leave his command with his troops facing certain defeat, MacArthur only acceded to the President’s order to go to Australia on the condition that he could leave at a time and place of his own choosing.

When he had finally left several weeks later, MacArthur was forced to break his vow to die with his besieged troops on the island fortress of Corregidor in the mouth of Manila Bay and had to flee in a small boat to the island of Mindanao where the B.17 was waiting to take him to Australia. But before he left he made a solemn promise to return to the Philippines, the place where he had first seen military service as a young lieutenant in 1903.

The Flying Fortress skimmed over the scrub at the edge of Batchelor Field and touched down on a dirt runway, only recently extended to accommodate such a large aircraft. While the B.17 was being refueled, MacArthur, his Filipino wife and young son stepped from the plane to stretch their legs, as did several high-ranking officers the general had brought with him from Corregidor. In less than half an hour the plane took off again for Alice Springs.

There, MacArthur was met by a military contingent of American officers including Lieutenant-General Richard Sutherland. Sutherland had been MacArthur’s Chief of Staff in the Philippines and had preceded him to Melbourne to confer with Australian officials. MacArthur had decided to make the long journey southward to Adelaide and Melbourne by train, in order to have time to get a full appreciation of the situation in Australia before meeting with Prime Minister Curtin and his war cabinet. As the train rattled southward through the South Australian desert, MacArthur was stunned by what he heard.

‘There are somewhere in the region of twenty thousand Allied combat-ready troops in Australia, sir,’ Sutherland told him. ‘The rest are all untrained and poorly equipped conscripts. The Australian Air Force has about eighty assorted aircraft; most are obsolete, some of them very old biplanes and we only have about a hundred and sixty operational airplanes. More crated P-40 fighters have already arrived from the United States and are presently being assembled and put into service. More aircraft have been promised from the States and the British say they are sending Spitfires. The Australian Naval forces in home waters are small but by all accounts, very well trained.’

MacArthur’s eyes widened in amazement and disbelief. Then his jaw tightened and for a long time he stared out of the carriage window in shocked disappointment without uttering a word. Eventually he said: ‘If thirty thousand American soldiers and a hundred thousand Filipinos, backed up by a hundred and fifty P-40’s, thirty-five B-17’s, thirty Catalinas and sixty warships couldn’t save the Philippines, what chance does this country have if the Japs invade?’ MacArthur turned his eyes back to his Chief of Staff. ‘Do the Australians have any kind of plan at all?’

Sutherland pointed to a map of Australia spread out on the table between them.

‘Their chiefs of staff say if the Japs mount a full-scale invasion, they intend to only try and defend the most populated and industrialized area of the country which is about twenty percent of the land mass lying behind a line drawn between Brisbane and Adelaide.’ Sutherland ran a finger across the map between the two cities. ‘They call it the Brisbane Line, sir.’

‘And what about the rest of the country?’ MacArthur said incredulously.

‘They say they’ll have to abandon it to the enemy, sir.’

The look of stunned amazement returned to MacArthur’s face. ‘Who else knows about this Brisbane Line plan?’

‘Just Allied top brass and a few senior members of the Australian government. General, I think the people would go berserk if they knew. It’s a desperate situation, sir.’

‘Have the people any idea just how desperate it is?’

‘Not really, sir. It’s all happened so quickly. The average Australian never paid much attention to the war in Europe or their Imperial Force volunteer soldiers who went to fight with the British. They’re kind of isolationists out here. Since World War One, successive governments have told them they don’t need a regular army. Now there’s a war on their doorstep, the people are scared and the politicians are ducking for cover. The people have been kept pretty much in the dark. The press is only allowed to publish the official government line. Even the truth of what happened in Darwin was suppressed.’

MacArthur shook his head. ‘Well, now you’d better give me the good news, if there is any. What support is coming in from the States?’

‘Not a hell of a lot yet, sir. There’s about forty thousand men on the way, mainly ground forces. They’re expected here over the next few weeks. Most of them are aboard the Queen Mary and the Queen Elizabeth and almost all are untrained.’ Sutherland frowned. ‘I’m afraid the amount of equipment and supplies isn’t very encouraging either. The problem is, the war in Europe gets top priority from the White House and there’s a chronic shortage of shipping to transport what little is allocated to us here. Then there are more problems when the ships do get here.’

‘What kind of problems?’

‘Trade union problems. Sometimes a ship doesn’t get unloaded for weeks.’

‘Then we’ll unload our ships ourselves.’

‘The Australian Waterside Workers Federation says if American troops unload ships they’ll shut down all the ports in the country. They say their working conditions were too hard won to relax them even if there is a war going on. They’ll only work at their own speed or not work at all.’

‘God Almighty. Is there any good news at all?’

‘Yes, there is.’ Sutherland smiled reassuringly. ‘Some of the Australian Imperial Force serving overseas with the British has been recalled. Up to fifty thousand men will be back in Australia soon. And they are all seasoned soldiers. They’re battle hardened and they’ve got more experience than any of our guys, sir. If we’re going to try and beat the Nips back to Japan we’re going to need the AIF badly, at least until we can get our own forces trained and get the hardware we need from the States.’

‘And what’s the present command set-up?’

‘It’s already been announced that you are to take over command of all US forces in Australia,’ Sutherland said. ‘And its certain that you’ll be made Supreme Commander of a new south-west Pacific area command very soon. The command will include all Australian and American forces in and around Australia. I understand the Commander in Chief of Australian Forces, General Blamey will be your second in command. He’s on his way home from Cairo right now. He boarded the Queen Mary in Cape Town. We expect the announcements to be made after you meet with Prime Minister Curtin in Canberra in a few days.’ Sutherland’s lips widened in a guarded grin. ‘You’ve been getting a lot of ink in the Australian newspapers in the last few days, sir, and it’s certainly lifted the morale of the Australian public.’

‘And their expectations, I suppose.’ MacArthur said without much enthusiasm. ‘You know as well as I do, this command will just turn into another Philippines if we don’t get men and equipment here before it’s too late to fight back.’

Deeply troubled by the grim situation in Australia, MacArthur took leave of Sutherland and his senior officers and returned to his family’s quarters to ponder the situation and to try and get some rest. After lying awake for several hours in a small, uncomfortable bunk, MacArthur got up, put on a pair of pants and a silk smoking-jacket and began pacing the dimly-lit corridors of the train as it thundered through the night towards Adelaide.

There were just three carriages on the train. Two were set aside for the general’s family and his military entourage which had been swollen considerably at Alice Springs. Everyone was sleeping as MacArthur made his way through the carriages. When he reached the last one, a US Army Military Policeman stood on guard at the door. At first, in the half-light, the soldier didn’t recognize the tall man in the smoking-jacket and he barred the way. But when he realized it was MacArthur, the MP snapped to attention and saluted smartly.

‘What are you doing here, Soldier?’ MacArthur asked. ‘Who’s in there?’

‘There’s some Allied officers and enlisted men and a few civilians, sir,’ the MP said, staring straight ahead. ‘They’re not part of your official party, sir. They’re just tagging a ride south. I was told to make sure they are confined to this car.’

‘At ease, Soldier.’ MacArthur said and passed through into the carriage.

It was even darker inside the last carriage than in the others. As MacArthur walked down the corridor he saw the forms of a few servicemen stretched out and sleeping on seats in the compartments. At the end of the corridor he was about to turn around and begin walking back when he saw an American officer standing at a window looking out into the night. Outside, the rugged South Australia landscape was silhouetted by bright moonlight. In the reflection of the moon glow on the window, MacArthur saw the insignia of a captain on the officer’s shirt.

‘Can’t you sleep, son?’ MacArthur said from the shadows.

‘No.’ The captain half turned his head towards MacArthur and seeing the silk smoking-jacket assumed the question had come from a civilian. ‘It’s so damn hot in the compartments, I came out to try and get a little air.’

‘Strange-looking country out there, isn’t it?’ MacArthur said as the officer resumed staring out of the window.’

‘Not so strange if you come from the south-western United States. This country looks pretty much like parts of Arizona or New Mexico to me.’

‘Is that where you’re from, Captain?’

‘The captain nodded his head. ‘I was born in the Carrizo Mountains in north-western New Mexico, but I live in Gallup now.’

‘I know that country well, son. I’ve been there many times.’ MacArthur said. ‘I lived on Army posts in New Mexico as a young boy. My father was a soldier in the Union Army. After the Civil War he had a command in the south-west during the Indian campaigns. He saw that whole region settled as a Navajo Indian reservation.’

The captain turned from the window. ‘What was your father’s name?’

‘Colonel Arthur MacArthur.’

‘Sir.’ The captain quickly stood to attention and saluted. Any doubt about the identity of the tall man in the smoking-jacket was dispelled when MacArthur took a step forward into the dim light. ‘I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t realize…’

‘As you were, Captain.’ MacArthur returned the salute. ‘I see you are wearing the uniform of the Army Air Corps. What’s your name?’

‘Rivers, sir, Captain Dan Rivers.’

‘How did you come to be in Australia, son?’

‘I was stationed at Clark Field when the Japs hit in the Philippines. I came to Darwin aboard one of the B-17’s we managed to salvage. I’m going south now to help organize facilities for assembling P-40’s coming in from the States.’

‘Assemble them? Don’t you prefer to fly them?’

‘Yes, but I’m also an engineer, sir. I joined the service to get my degree through the military.’

‘Damn good way to get an education, son. I was commissioned as a second-lieutenant of engineers at West Point.’ MacArthur smiled at the recollection. ‘What did you plan to do before this war came along?’

‘I wanted to build good roads and decent housing for my people all across the south-west, sir. They supported me while I was away at military school getting an education.’

‘You said you were born in the Carrizo Mountains, Captain.’ MacArthur stepped closer so he could see Dan’s face more clearly. After a few moments he said, ‘You’re an Indian, aren’t you, son?’

‘Yes sir, I’m a Navajo.’

MacArthur smiled again and said, ‘My father would have been glad if he could have seen all Americans fighting on the same side this time.’