EXCITING YEARS
PARAGUAYAN WILDS
ADVENTUROUS WOMAN LIEUTENANT IN ARMY SYDNEY, Oct., in. One of the most, amazing women to visit Sydney for many a long day is Mrs. Tngcnobl de Roger, a niece ot the Commandcr-in-Chicf of the German Fleet in the first year of the Great War, Admiral von Ingenohl. She has lived as strange and as adventurous life as one could wish for, including a term as lieutenant in the Paraguayan army during the war with Bolivia.
During 18 years in Paraguay, she has built her own homes ot brick and stone, carried out a 2000-mile jungle trek, and a 2500-mile perilous motorboat voyage down the crocodileinfested Pilcoma.vo, while hunting crocodiles, jaguars, and snakes has been part of her daily life. On her second world trip, Mrs. dc Roger arrived in Sydney last week to do some shark fishing.
The Great War swept Mrs. de Roger from a life of calm preparation in a German conservatorium for a career in music to one of remarkable adventure. She took up nursing at the front with zeal, and then, as was the case with many Germans, found that her private fortune had almost disappeared. She had to seek a new living. South America came her way when her friend’s husband was appointed to the German Legation in Uruguay. Mrs. de Roger went with them and lived in Uruguay for a year. She worked as head nurse in a German hospital in the Argentine, but her natural bent for adventure was soon upon her, and so soon as she had saved money enough she bought two horses and supplies and hired the services of a husky Chaco Indian to help her on a 2000-mile jungle Irek from Sante Fe in the Argentine to San Bcrnadino in Paraguay, a tiny German settlement where she hoped to live. The course was an evil one, as the country was invested with the murderous Black Hand Gang, political terrorists. Police tried to detain her, and warned her that the husky Indian was probably a member of the gang. Mrs. de Roger put her faith in the fact that she had nursed the man to health in hospital. Proud of Murder
“And, as all war nurses know," she said, "one is safe in the hands of a man whose life one has saved. We started out, and within a few days my ‘boy’ told me he was a Black Hand murderer. He was a kind ol’ Communist, had several killings to his credit, and was awfully proud of them. He assured me t was safe in his hands, and I had the good sense to believe him. This strange journey took about three months. Travelling was difficult, as it rained almost continuously. and the grass grew so rapidly that the narrow mud tracks were obliterated in many places. We were lost for a week at one time, and simply wandered in circles. The jaguars were elusive on this journey, and, as we had only rice and tea, we were often on short commons, sometimes having to break the law and shoot vultures. They are most unpleasant eating. They are protected, as the only means the country has of getting rid of its dead flesh. Visit by Bandits
“As I preferred the night for hunting, I used to sleep for some hours in the heat of the day. On one occasion I sent the boy off for water and settled down. Soon there seemed to be a good deal of movement about me. Drowsily I thought it was my clumsy boy back again, but I was rudely awakened to find some half-dozen Gauchos standing over me. They were evil-looking men, bandits of some kind, and had already captured my supplies, and most important, my guns and revolvers. The boy still had one with him, and I hoped desperately that lie would return in time. He did not come. It was a pretty fix, the men were plainly going to abandon me, and without the precious guns I was as good as dead in the jungle. “I talked to spin out time, was as affable as could be, and soon saw their vanity was the most gullible thing about them. I told them I was a journalist travelling to get pictures, and, as I thought them a handsome set of fellows, I would like to photograph them for publication. I did the job thoroughly, made them titivate themselves up, and then, to their immense pleasure, took about two dozen snaps —all on a camera that had no film in it!
“The bandits demanded the pictures immediately; but I parried by explaining that I could only develop them at the next township, and that I could not possibly arrive there without my guns and supplies. The trick worked, my goods were given back, and the bandits rode off on my promise that 1 would leave the pictures at a certain place for them. Needless to say, we passed with all speed through the settlement.”
Of German and Dutch parentage, Mrs. de Roger has a typical smiling placidity that seems natural to her cool pursuit of adventure. “Further on I had a rather curious adventure,” she continued. “Once, when I was following tiger spurs (tracks) alone through the jungle, I was suddenly confronted by a tall man, who threatened me with a barb. In Spanish he asked me what I was doing. ‘Hunting tigers,’ I replied. He forbade this, as the tigers were his ‘dogs.’ I could see then that he had a shelter nearby, and that many fresh tiger spurs were in and about the shelter. Suspecting he was a German, I spoke to him in the language, and he was so genial. Then lie told me he was the second Messiah. He was mad. Villagers later fold me he was once a high-born German. But the amazing thing was that this comparatively unarmed man lived in the jungle on friendly terms with the most ferocious of its animals. A Revolution
“The next thing was that my ‘boy’ wanted to marry me, and, as I did not want that, I sent him back and went on alone. My plight was soon ridiculous. I was harum-scarum in appearance after my jungle travels and so different a person from the one on my passport that 1 found if. impossible to cash a cheque in any of the townships l came to. This held up my progress, and I was almost relieved when I crossed into Paraguay in time for the 1923 revolution and fell into the hands
of the army. They really wanted my horse, but. as they thought I might be a spy, they tok both of us aboard a small steamer, and we went on towards San Bcrnadino. As 1 was not legally on the boat, I had to dress as
a marine, and was put in charge of a machine-gun. 1 am sure 1 shot no more than crocodiles. At our next stop I had the good fortune to contact a German, who recognised the significance of the name Ingenohl. He cashed my cheque and gave me such standing with the revolutionaries that they let me go. 1 was still in country unknown to me. and was lost for some days. On my good horse, I eventually made San Bcrnadino. “More, army men held me up. 1 could not produce my passport, and in desperation flourished a postcard I had received from my mother. The message in German was unintelligible, and, as it had many stamps on it. it looked so ‘official’ they let me pass.” Home-building Mrs. De Roger’s first home in San Bcrnadino, a small wood and thatch cottage, was built by others for her, but her second and third houses, of brick and stone, were built by herself with the help of three or four Indians. Having worked for some time in a briekwords in Germany, and seeing the possibilities of a brick industry in Paraguay, Mrs. de Roger was not slow to apply her knowledge. She first taught her Indians to make bricks by hand.
“Needless to say, our first productions were miserable all round. Bricks were of all sizes. But I was able to import some machinery from Germany, and, as we worked at my house, we laid the foundations of a flourishing brick industry. My first home took about two years to build. We made many mistakes, but the finished home, with its cement-covered walls and arches, looked well enough. It stood up to the hurricanes when they came. As the brickworks developed, I pulled down my second house and started on a third. This was my present home. It has eighteen rooms and several verandahs and arched porches, and went up in a year. As I had now gone in for the manufacture of tiles, I designed and set several mosaics through the porches. The staircase was the greatest task of all. I was never very clever at calculations, and, as each assistant I called on seemed to have a different standard of measurement, it was a long time before we evolved anything like a staircase.” War Service High adventure struck again into her career with the outbreak of the Paraguay-Bolivian war in 1932. Paraquay was desperate for nurses to aid her men; the young girls who volunteered were inefficient and were badly treated by the men. Mrs. de Roger was called on to form a Red Cross corps.
“I had no wish to be drawn into this war, but I could not refuse the work. Before long I was a lieutenant in the army, and was put into uniform. My whole responsibility was actually with the Red Cross work, but there seemed to be some novelty attached to my position, and 1 used to share the campaigning chats of the officers. “As I had trained as a pilot in Germany in 192 G during a return trip to that country, I offered my services as a war pilot. They were accepted, but, alas —there were not enough planes to go round. I was nine months with them, moving about under fighting conditions in the wild Chaco country. The struggle had its desperate moments, but -after the Great War horrors this fighting seemed tame to me. 1 was lucky enough to come through without hurt.” Hunting Trips
Hunting trips after crocodiles and jaguars were frequent. One of these extended into a 2500-mile trip in a small motor-boat clown the crocodileinfested Pilcomayo River. This daring trip was made almost lugubrious by the fact that neither Mrs. de Roger nor her Indians know much about the motor.
“I think it took us a good week before the engine finally got over its fussy false starts. We camped on the banks at night and shot birds for food, but we wasted so many hours in starting the motor each morning that we finally shot our birds as we went and chugged on as long as we could. The motor gave out, and, in disgust, I went off to shoot birds, leaving one of the men to clean up the engine. When I returned I found he had pulled down the motor to the last nut, and laid every minute piece on the sandy shore without anything beneath them. This was our ruin, and I confess I would have preferred to shoot the boy to the birds. We were marooned for some days, and the situation in that heartless jungle was becoming desperate when a small steamer approached.” Pet Jaguar
Mrs. de Roger reared a baby jaguar for two months.
“We became fire closest pals—literally inseparable. It used to nest on my shoulders most of the day, and was so attached to mo it followed me whenever I went swimming, although it was half-drowned on each occasion. At first it whimpered so much at night that I took it to bed with me, and after that it always slept with me. We would even do trick shooting together. The jaguar crouched against the gun between the forearm and shoulder of the left arm. It lay so still wo never missed. When I went, on another trip I left it with neighbours, but it became fierce then, and these people killed it. “The climate at San Bernadino is so enervating that life for everyone is as lazy as possible. The chief occupation of the Indians is ‘farming and sleeping.’ Even the lake next to the settlement becomes hot, but here both Indians and Europeans steep themselves all clay long. The water is thick with crocodiles.
“It is strange, but true, that the crocodiles do not harm us. When we swim about they skid out of our way; If we lie still they brush against us. We no longer fear them. What wc do fear are the raya, which first paralyse one with a shock of clcctricty and then make a wound with their barbed poisonous tail that takes months to heal.”
Hard-working and exciting as her life had been, Mrs. de Roger never forgot her first love —music. In her large music-room she plays the piano, violin and ’cello. She has banded some of the poor boys and girls together, imported violins and flutes lor them, and successfully started a music club, which meets each week at her home.
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Bibliographic details
Poverty Bay Herald, Volume LXV, Issue 19777, 3 November 1938, Page 3
Word Count
2,223EXCITING YEARS Poverty Bay Herald, Volume LXV, Issue 19777, 3 November 1938, Page 3
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