JUNGLE OUTPOSTS

Dominion, Volume 35, Issue 190, 11 May 1942, Page 6

JUNGLE OUTPOSTS

Lonely Vigils North Of

Australia

PRIMITIVE CONDITIONS SYDNEY, May 5. Stationed deep in thick jungle, perched on the sides of mountains and isolated by miles of semi-explored country, are Australia's loneliest soldiers —the men of the New Guinea outposts. In pairs, sometimes attended by blackboys and living under the most primitive conditions, they keep constant watch—the eyes of the jungle in this weird war of modern weapons and untamed nature. They stand at the end of intelligence veins, radiating from Australian bases in New Guinea, writes Mr. F. C. Foikard, the Sydney “Sun’s” war correspondent at an advanced Allied base. A few days ago I visited one of these posts after a 20-mile hike through chest-high, knife-sharp grass, through swamps, deep forests, and flooded crocodile creeks. , I was led by a fierce-looking native armed with a sharp machete, who never spoke. Suddenly we came on the outpost. Two men stepped out of the bushes. They had heard the noise of our approach and were not taking any chances. One tall soldier was bearded and side-levered, the other a 19-year-old lad whose beard just wouldn’t grow. They had been there for months, their only companion a police-boy. One had been a drover and miner, the other a guest-house employee. Important Roles. Inside their hut were two beds and a table, chairs, and greased rifles, ready for quick use. They provided strange contrasts in types—the miner worldly, a man who had made money and spent it; the other a quiet, unsophisticated youth, who seemed a little, amazed that the war was on. Their only pastime was talk, and memories of some strange, long-past life, across miles of rubber forest and sea. Only one played cards. They had read and re-read their few battered magazines. Hobbies bad been started and dropped because boredom overcame them. Time had become a period between rising and diving under nets, before the mosquitoes started their nightly raids. These two men must keep on the job no matter what happens. They have contacts which must be maintained, through attacks of malaria and dengue, through heavy tropical rain or solid miasinic heat sweeping up from the swamps. Outposts must function at all sacrifices. Their daily food comes from cans—bully beef, carrots, hard biscuits —but occasionally a native brings in a few bananas and pawpaws, which are treasured to tlie final swallow. Over many parts of New Guinea these posts are duplicated. Theirs is the complete‘loneliness, but one that plays a major part in the war against the Japs. “Uniform” consists of one pair of shorts and an identification disc. Feet and chest are bare.

One lad with whom I spoke hadn’t received a letter for eight weeks. He just wanted the war to finish, so that he could carry the message in person.