PRIVATE WAR

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume 77, 4 November 1942, Page 2

PRIVATE WAR

PAPUAN SERGEANT’S TOLL OF JAPANESE GALLANTRY OF GUERRILLA NATIVES The story of a former police boy, Sergeant Katue, squat, broad shouldered, well muscled, cool, black warrior of a Papuan force, as told by a Melbourne "Argus” special correspondent, is one of valour. Many of the native troops of this all-native unit have performed magnificently in the Papuan jungles since the Japanese landed. But none has a record comparable with that of fierce-faced Sergt. Katue, who returned recently from more than two months’ patrolling in the mountain jungles. Stitched to the shoulders and sleeves of his stained khaki jacket was a mass of stripes, badges, and regimental insignia taken from some of the 2(5 Japanese soldiers and marines whom Katue shot dead.

Gunmen of the Wild West cut a notch in their revolver butts to signify each victim. Katue merely cut off their sergeants or corporals’ stripes, or marines’ insignia, or lieutenants’ badges, and stitched them on around his own three red sergeant’s stripes until his jacket outshone the uniform of a Patagonian grand admiral. When I spoke to him to-day he grinned widely, showing an expanse of broken teeth, crimsoned by betel nut, and in pidgin English carefully explained the rank and fate of each former owner of each piece of enemy insignia. Several of his victims were privates, with no badges to take, although Katue made it clear that he had tried to concentrate on the top men, and he shrugged his shoulders lugubriously as he explained why he didn’t have more stripes on his already resplendent uniform.

“Some Japanese, he no good. He wear nothing worth taking.” So just to keep the records straight Katue brought back a cloth cap, bearing the anchor, insignia of the Japanese marines, which one of his victims had been wearing.

Katue is aged about 35, and before joining the Army in June, 1940, he had a Papua-wide reputation for valour as a police boy. On one occasion he swam a flooded river with a rope round his waist to save three white officers from certain death. He is believed to have saved the lives of more white men than any other native in the territory.

Katue’s amazing saga of adventure against the Japanese began after the Japanese landed at Gona mission. It ended in Port Moresby 73 days later. He had been left by his patrol in a native village to recover from muscular pains brought on by incessant mountain patrols. As he was resting he saw 10 Japanese soldiers walking towards him. He was unable to raise his rifle to his shoulder, so he crawled from the village and hid in the scrub. He decided to wage a deadly and stealthy private jungle war against the Japanese. Picking up two native boys from his patrol he set out, and three days later three Japanese were seen riding bicycles. The two natives raised their rifles, but Katue restrained them.

“If you miss, plenty trouble.” he said. “If Katue shoot, no miss.” And Katue promptly killed the three Japanese with three bullets.

The fighting black sergeant moved like a black phantom through the dripping jungles, recruiting men as he went, until eventually his little private army numbered 14. Next day they saw a Japanese soldier climbing an orange tree. Katue picked him off from long range with a bullet through the brain. The noise of the shot brought 16 Japanese running from a hut near by. Katue’s men met them with withering fire, and four Japanese fell dead and the rest fled.

Some time later they came to a storehouse filled with food. So to prevent it falling into Japanese hands Katue burnt it to the ground. A party of six Japanese soldiers with two native guides came trotting along to investigate the fire. Katue shot and killed the eight of them. By this time the little native force was out of ammunition, and they trekked for days through terrible country to an Australian base, where they obtained additional weapons and ammunition, and set out on their selfimposed job again.

For more than a month the little native army patrolled the jungles organising villages to guard bridges and vital points, training them to refuse to give the Japanese co-operation in any way. Some of the villagers didn’t need prompting.

On the ground before an Australian post Katue contemptuously tossed down a pile of captured Japanese equipment, including tommy-guns. In his 73-day jungle war in miniature Katue never had one man wounded or even sick. They lived entirely on native food and travelled hundreds of miles.

“Me go out again quick time,” he said to-day. “This time me bring back stripes of Japanese general!”