DOWN IN JUNGLE

Otago Daily Times, Issue 25429, 10 January 1944, Page 2

DOWN IN JUNGLE

DOMINION WARHAWK PILOT ORDEAL ON PACIFIC ISLAND , (N.Z.E.F. Official News Service) NEW GEORGIA, Jan. 3. Forced to bale out over Japaneseheld territory on Bougainville Island, a New Zealand Warhawk pilot, Flight Sergeant D. K. Mulligan, waded through swamp and jungle, spent a sleepless night crouched at a base of a tree drenched to the skin, and next day struggled to the coast, where Allied aircraft and a crash boat co-operated in bringing him to safety. Apart from exhaustion, he suffered no ill-effects from his ordeal. As he came down, the canopy of his parachute caught in a tree. He found himself hanging by the shroud lines 25 feet from the ground. He gained a foothold on the tree and released the parachute harness, hut he was unable to drag in the canopy, which he intended to use as protection against mosquitoes. Vines from the tree hung in all directions. He slid down them and dropped the last few feet into swamp water waist deep. As the tree afforded some foothold, he had time in which to collect himself. Above him, through the trees, he saw four New Zealand aircraft circling. He waded 10 yards to a clearer patch, climbed a tangle of sloping vines, and flashed a mirror to attract attention. Violent wing waving assured him that he had been seen. Wading Tthrough Swamp

Flight Sergeant Milligan then returned to the tree to check his equipment and to plan his next move. Realising there was a Japanese road not far inland, he decided to make for the coast. Whether this lay on either side of him or ahead he did not know, but he resolved to take a chance. After resting, he slung his jungle pack on his back and his dinghy round his neck and set a course by his compass, hoping to be clear of the swatnp before nightfall. The going was very hard, and he had to wade almost up to his waist through swamp growth entangled with creeper and fern. Tiring rapidly after 100 yards of this, he was forced to discard the dinghv. He soon found that he was unable {o stay on his course, as at each step he slid into slime up to his armpits. He struggled to a firmer piece of ground to rest. While there, by waving a dinghy sail, he attracted the attention of an Allied plane, which dropped a white bundle. It landed only 60 yards away, but in the very direction he had been unable to maintain, and he could do nothing about it. The swamp growth thickened as he went on, and he had to work entirely on his compass. He had to check his course about every 40 paces. Almost at dark he came to comparatively dry ground at the foot of a tree, where he stopped for the night. Mosquitoes were thick, and it rained heavily. As soon as the first light of dawn broke he packed his kit and set off on his original course. The swamp conditions improved slightly after about an hour, and travelling became easier. He kept on at a steady pace, resting often, as his shoulders ached badly About 9 a.m. he heard the noise of surf in the distance. Afraid of possible enemy positions, he moved cautiously, but his fears proved unfounded, and after crossing a sluggish river he came out on the beach. Allied Plane Sighted Twenty minutes later the lone New Zealander saw an Allied aircraft cruising slowly down the coast. He caught it with a mirror signal. The plane waved its wings, gently circled, and headed straight back. “I was rather excited, guessing this was the first step to being picked up,” said Flight Sergeant Mulligan. “Time dragged until the aircraft returned with an escort of four fighters. A dinghy was dropped at the water's edge, with instructions to row out to sea as far as possible.

“ I wasted no time inflating the dinghy, threw in my equipment, and started out to sea. The excitement' of the last few events put aside all feelings of exhaustion, and I was able to make good progress. I felt even more secure when the fighter escort strafed the beach to prevent possible enemy interference.” When he was about two miles out a Catalina flying boat circled, dropped smoke floats, and continued its course, but help was now close at hand. Shortly afterwards a crash boat speeded to the scene and picked up the airman, who was carried to the safety of an Allied air base without further incident. Flight Sergeant Mulligan’s home is Treaty House, Waitangi, where his father, Mr A. W. Mulligan, supervises the Waitangi estate.