OUTPOST DUTY

Te Awamutu Courier, Volume 66, Issue 5598, 29 March 1943, Page 2

OUTPOST DUTY

ON LONELY ISLE YEAR IN THE PACIFIC Twelve months on a small island in the Pacific with only one white companion in a native community! That was the experience of Lance-Bom-bardier J. J. Lock, of Auckland. With him on the island was Gunner H. E. Henderson. Shortly after Japan had entered the war volunteers were called from the New Zealand forces for outpost duty in the Pacific, and, not quite knowing what they had let themselves in for, Lance-Bombardier Lock and Gunner Henderson offered themselves. The name of the island cannot be disclose, but Lance-Bombardier Lock stated that it was some hundreds of miles from New Zealand. They were landed front a boat, with their rations and stores, and settled in a village of natives. The soldiers were as nervous of the villagers as the natives were of the white men. “The children were particularly shy of us and ran away every time they saw us,” said the lance-bombardier, “but this had been anticipated, and included in our stores were two tins of sweets. We gave these to the native schoolmasters for distribution, and thereafter the children became very friendly.” During the whole of the year only three or four white people called at the island. It was a real treat for the two “castaways” to converse with them. ISLAND’S MILITARY COMPLEMENT “The military complement of the island was made up of a few native troops, of which we had charge,” said Lance-Bombardier Lock. “It was sometimes difficult to,- make them understand what we wanted. If it suited their convenience to understand us, they understood us, but if it didn’t suit them, well, it was a hopeless task to make them ‘savvy.’ “This went on until we got used to them, and ‘tumbled’ to their little game, and eventually we were able to get them into some sort of order.”

It was the job of these native troops to keep a constant lookout, both day and night, and the white men had to supervise this. The boys were extremely superstitious, and when on night duty could be very easily scared, as they were in dread of devils. “I went up to the lookout post one night, just to see that everything was all right,” said Lance-Bombardier Lock, “and there was the look-out standing at the ready with his rifle cocked. In explanation, he said that he had heard fairies. Another night the lookout said he heard a woman and a baby crying in the bush. However, it turned out to be only his imagination.” NEW YEAR SPORTS MEETING “We organised a sports meeting for them last New Year,” said LanceBombardier Lock, “and it was a redletter day. Everybody turned out for it. We donated a few prizes, which consisted of tinned bully beef from our stores.” There was plenty of fruit on the island, and each time the two white men asked the natives for a little to keep them going they were presented with huge basketfuls—much more than they could hope to cope with. The natives did a good deal of fishing, and were fond of young octopii. For bait, they used a stone, tied round with shells, which rattled on the coral, and protrudinug from it was a cane. The octopii grabbed the cane and were pulled into the open, where they were speared. The meat was kept for a week or two to dry out and was then cocked. Neither of the New Zealanders dared to try this delicacy, as they stated that the odour was sufficient to keep them at a distance. CHURCH OF THEIR OWN The village had its own native minister, who stayed for three years at a time and then moved on. The accepted farewell gift for him consisted of large bars of soap. Anyone but a native minister would take that as an insult, said Lance-Bombardier Lock. Several times the two white men were invited to attend the native church, but they did not accept often, as they could not understand what was being said or what was sung. It was quite amusing to see all the villagers “togged up” for the services each Sunday. Some of the men would appear in aged, green swallow-tailed coats and old felt and straw hats, which seemed to have originally been in the Ark, as Lance-Bombardier Lock put it. COMMUNISTIC VILLAGE LIFE , “The life of the village was communal,” said Lance-Bombardier Lock. “For instance, when I wanted a hut built for the troops I had to consult the chief of the village, who called a meeting of the whole village. The community was divided up into sections. One group would go into the bush and get the timber, while another section cleared the proposed site, and another lot the actual building, and so on.”

A queer mannerism the natives had was to call their relatives ( by more closely connected names. Cousins were sometimes referred to as brothers and sisters, uncles were fathers and aunts were mothers. Lance-Bom-bardier Lock and Gunner Henderson were at first somewhat confused, as when they were talking to a native boy he would point to a man and say, “There is my father.” Another time he would point to an entirely different person and still refer to. him as his father. It was some time before this was explained t 6 the white men, whom the natives called “papalangi,” which meant white father.”