FORCED TO BALE

Timaru Herald, Volume CLV, Issue 22786, 10 January 1944, Page 4

FORCED TO BALE

Plight Of Dominion

Hard Trek To Escape Japanese

Official R.N.Z.A.F. News Service NEW GEORGIA, January 3. Forced to bale out over Japaneseheld territory in Bougainville, a New Zealand Warhawk pilot, Flight Sergeant D. K. Mulligan, waded through swamp and jungle, spent a sleepless night crouched at the base of a tree, was 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 the ordeal.

As he came down, the canopy of the 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, but. was unable to drag in the canopy, which he had 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. The base of the tree afforded some foothold and gave him time to collect himself.

Mirror Signals 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 fnlrror to attract attention. Violent wing-waving assured him that he had been seen. Then he returned to his tree to check his equipment and to plan his next move.

Realising that there was a Japanese road not far inland, he decided to make for the coast. What was 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, with his dinghy round his neck, he set a course by compass, hoping to get clear of the swamp before nightfall. The going was very hard and he had to wade almost up to his waist through swamp growth entangled with creeper and fem.

Tiring rapidly after 100 yards of this, Flight Sergeant Mulligan was forced to discard the dinghy. He soon found that he was unable to stay on his course as with each step he slid into slime up to his armpits. He struggled to a firmer piece of ground to rest. While there, by waving the dinghy,

sail, he attracted the attention of an Allied aeroplane, 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.

Direction by Compass The swamp growth thickened as he went on. He had to work entirely on the compass and 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. The mosquitoes were thick and it rained heavily. As soon as the first light broke, Flight Sergeant Mulligan packed his kit and set off on his original course. The swamp conditions improved slightly and after about an hour, travelling became easier with Tss chopping of undergrowth. Keeping on at a steady pace and resting often, as his shoulders ached badly, he heard the noise of surf in the distance. This was about 9 a.m. Afraid of possible enemy positions, he moved cautiously, but his fears were unfounded and, after crossing a sluggish river, he came out on the beach.

Twenty minutes later the lone New Zealander saw an Allied aircraft cruising slowly down the coast and caught it with a minor signal. The aeroplane waved its wings gently, circled, and headed straight back. “I was rather excited, guessing that this was the first step to being picked up,” said Flight Sergeant Mulligan.

Rescued from Dinghy Time dragged on until the aircraft returned with an escort of four fighters. It dropped a dinghy at the water’s edge with instructions to row out to sea as far as possible. “I wasted no time inflating the dinghy. I threw in my equipment and started out to sea. The excitement of the last few events had put aside al] feelings of exhaustion and I was able to make good progress.” said Flight Sergeant Mulligan. “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 on its course, but help was now close at hand. Shortly afterwards a crash boat speeded to the scene, picked up the airman, and carried him 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.