Page Title

HERE AND THERE IN THE SOUTHWEST PACIFIC

"Sanananda"

Written 20 March 1944

by K. B. Schooley

This narrative deals with my sojourn in New Guinea, and what went on during the Battle of Sanananda Point, in which the Japs were driven out of their strongly fortified positions. It takes place in that area around Buna, Gona, and Sanananda, which includes Dobodura, Soputa, and other villages close by. No doubt you have read something of those places, so they won't be altogether new to you, and I hope this story gives you the information I am trying to transmit.

The first thing to contend with, after having flown over the Owen Stanley Range in a transport from Port Moresby, was the intense heat. It was just like stepping into an oven when the plane door opened. Nearly 100 pounds of equipment, including rations, was not conducive to making matters pleasant, either, but there was no alternative. It was two miles to the first village of Dobodura, where tea and hardtack could be had, and a little rest, too. Here, natives were coming through with wounded men from the area of action on their way back to the hospitals, and jeep loads of supplies were going the other way as rapidly as possible.

Two days later I had reached the jumping-off place. It is impossible to call the area of action a front line insofar as jungle fighting is concerned because the positions of allies and enemy are individual wherever high ground keeps them out of the water and are often sandwiched together so that a casual observer might think of them as just one unit's position. Here I encountered all sorts of insects, slimy mud, and rain such as I had never seen before.

To reach the Japs, it was necessary to march for hours through mud, water, and tangled jungle growth which were sometimes knee-deep, but more often, between the hips and shoulders. One just floundered along, always alert for snipers, thus making progress slower and more tedious. It was necessary to keep the medical equipment as dry as possible, too, and ready for instant use. There was certainly no surplus to waste and it meant life or death for someone.

The first action was frightening to begin with but there was immediate work to be done on the wounded. Those first casualties were a shock, too, but it soon became commonplace to patch them up, see to their comfort, and go on to the next, with little time for thinking it over. It was the usual thing to work like made for a few hours, and then there would be just scattered casualties until the next session, which was sometimes a few minutes, and sometimes a day or two. All the while there was the comfort of allied artillery shells screaming over and into the Jap positions. I do mean comfort, too, since every shell was a one-way ticket for some of the enemy, and the more the better. Their accuracy was astounding.

Days were filled of these, always advancing through devastated Jap positions, littered with dead and smashed equipment, sleeping in water-filled foxholes with no shelter, and keeping one eye open for sneaking enemies. Little went on at night, but it was necessary to be ready for any eventuality. Among all of the emplacements, it was deep mud and thick jungle, which hindered progress but was good concealment for me as well as the enemy. Bullets smashing through the trees left no chance to relax during the day, and night was welcomed, although lying in water waiting for something to happen was miserable. I was often within sight of the Japs, and several times, between enemy emplacements, gave a hand where I could and kept my own hide from being ventilated. Scared? Yes, indeed, and many times, but there was a big job to do, and there was no turning back. A welcomed find was an abandoned Jap hospital in which ample medical supplies were found. Several complete sets of surgical instruments were a great help, also, and I was very careful to make sure there were no booby traps in the equipment and that it was fit for use before trying any of it. As a general rule, medical supplies were religiously safeguarded and no attempt was made to tamper with them; but food and equipment of all other kinds was more than likely to be a trap or already demolished.

This game of hide-and-seek repeated itself over and over through the days until the day came when I could see the ocean off Sanananda Point--the objective. The first thing to do was to have a bath and swim after going for a month without one. A fresh water river flowed into the ocean here so I had my choice of the fresh for bathing and the salt water for the swim. Soap won't lather in salt water so the river was just the thing and very conveniently placed.

Many wrecked landing barges, formerly belonging to the Japs, were strewn along the beach and made wonderful places for sunbathing. Of course, it was no problem to get out in the sun because there were only one or two trees left standing after the Allied air and artillery pounding, but the flat decks of the barges made a comfortable place to lie.

After a few days there, I took off again for the Kumusi River, some 30-odd miles away, and started the same old game all over again that I'd been playing for weeks before. At one time, I hiked two miles in the ocean and, in one place, was a mile from the beach in every direction. The water was all the way from ankle- to shoulder-depth and it was hard walking, but there were no mud or tree roots and vines to contend with and that was something. The entire hike was right along the ocean, in and out of the water, and the sand was almost as difficult to walk in as the water. It took 14 days to reach the objective, and the relief is beyond description even though the mosquitoes were big enough to saddle and ride. While swimming in the river one had to be on the lookout for crocodiles and several were killed near the small, erected jetty.

The return to Sanananda was made by boat which was a great improvement over foot-power, and far less tiring. The trip took only three hours and a few minutes. Quite some difference, wasn't it?

Killerton Point, between Sanananda Point and Gona, was the next stop, and it felt good to be free of the bullets flying around. There was a lot of malaria, jungle sores, and dysentery to be cared for so there was little time to just sit and brood. However, several times, it was possible to hike around to the nearby villages, such as Gona Mission, and see a bit of the country without getting shot at. The aftermath, when all the details loomed up, was a revelation and I don't know yet how it was ever accomplished. It seemedt hat I couldn't do it again if I had to, while at the time, without knowing what was coming in the next minute or day, it didn't appear such a tremendous undertaking. Living from one hour to the next was the main thing and gave no opportunity to reflect on things which might turn up.

The natives really were a Godsend because they worked their heads off for a little attention and their villages were a never ending source of interest. These native men had helped all the way through carrying the heavy equipment up and the wounded back. The women and children came back when it was all over and resumed their simple lives that had been disrupted months before by the Jap invaders. Many souvenirs were purchased and study of native ingenuity and industriousness was fascinating as well as enlightening. They are far wiser than they get credit for, and their jungle knowledge puts a white man to shame. The best whites are novices in comparison to these black masters of one of the world's most rugged countries. The village near Sanananda Point, where I was at this time, is the one which received most of my attention since the natives and their police boys were exceptionally friendly and encouraged visits. The things I learned there will remain in my memory for the rest of my life and constantly remind me that the so-called uncivilized natives of New Guinea are far happier than most civilized peoples ever can be. The man who said, "Money is the root of all evil" must have been to New Guinea because it is dramatically illustrated there.

Several months of inactivity passed before my return to Australia, but I gained a wealth of knowledge during that time which somewhat eased the disappointment at having to remain there so long.

Written permission on file to transcribe and place on-line given to Gayle Mohn Collins, Kalispell, Montana

Transcribed and contributed for use in Flathead MTGenWeb Project by: Gayle Mohn Collins, Kalispell, Montana

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