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Chapter Twelve
Consolidating

Meanwhile, at_Malsi, the position remained quiet. Once the enemy had failed to make his break-through at Soanotalu there was every chance of his attempting a similar operation at Malsi, and the defences were prepared accordingly. But no attack came. Flares were seen some distance along the coast, and a booby-trap was sprung one night just across the Malaoini river, which flowed into Malsi Bay. All the time, trailing the scattering remnants of the enemy, were the 'blokes'—the code name given to the native Solomon Islanders, many of them members of the Solomon Islands Defence Force, others police boys, some just village men who wanted to help rid the island of the Japanese. There were black-trackers whose facility in following trails through the jungle was astounding, who could tell just how many men had passed along a trail, how long ago, and what they had been carrying.

We knew beforehand what a help they had been in sheltering crashed airmen and in assisting Sergeant Cowan's secret patrol that had landed a week before the attack on Treasury. But now they were coming into their own. Directed by Sergeant Cowan, who had now shifted his headquarters from a high point in the jungle down to Malsi village, the 'blokes' were out every day, searching the trails and gardens, and coming back at dusk to tell us where the enemy lay, what his strength was, and what he was doing. They brought in prisoners. One trick they used was to invite any of the enemy they saw to be paddled over to Shortlands. Readily assenting, the un-suspecting Jap would be persuaded to lie low in the canoe 'so that the New Zealanders wouldn't see him' and, to the great glee of the natives, he would then be deposited on the beach at Malsi and taken into custody. Some Japs arrived with the odd black eye, for some of page 80the natives had one or two old grudges to settle. Perhaps the only feeling these unemotional little yellow men displayed was one of surprise, for had they not always been told of the way they would be tortured if they fell into the hands of the enemy? They accepted food and cigarettes without change of expression. The intelligence section perhaps still recalls the prisoner who was invited to draw a sketch where the rest of his friends were hiding. Nothing loth, he took possession of a cane knife, drew a rough map of Mono on the ground, and proceeded to point to all parts of the island, ac-companied by dangerous slashes of the cane knife through the air. It was surprising how many people were not so anxious to continue watching his demonstration.

By now, with the main enemy force destroyed around Soanotalu, brigade headquarters had instituted a series of sweeping patrols, designed to ferret out the enemy in his most likely hiding places. The 34th's main responsibility was the ground between Malsi and Soanotalu—a distance of roughly three miles, and, day after day, patrols searched this area. The Japs, their organised resistance broken, were trying to escape in any way they could. Two were seen swimming with a log off Lua Point, near Malsi; one was shot, and the other probably drowned. Rafts were discovered, and signs that individuals were living in caves, or near native gardens around the coast.

There was only one change in the disposition of the companies. D company was released from Soanotalu and came under command of 29th Battalion at Falamai, on the Kolehe perimeter. This company replaced our A company, which had been there since 28 October, and which now transferred to Soanotalu. B company was still with the 36th at Saveke, while C company remained divided, with company headquarters and one platoon at Soanotalu, another platoon under command of 36th Battalion, two sections at Wilson Point observation post, and one section at Malsi. A sudden flare-up with a small pocket of the enemy happened on 6 November, when A company, under instructions to transfer from Soanotalu to Malsi, was moving around the coastline. Twelve Japs were sprung in a rocky cave area 800 yards east of Soanotalu. The ensuing action lasted nearly two hours, before the enemy were all destroyed. There was notably fine work done by our men. Corporal D. J. Flynn, who lay wounded near the entrance to the Jap cave for a long time, and directed much of the fire, later received a Mention in Dispatches for this exploit. It was not a bloodless victory by any means, for we page 81had four wounded—the Jap was a desperate man by this time, and fought bitterly.

Things began to settle down. Patrols moved in all directions—around the coast to Soanotalu, down through the gardens to Falamai, and the defences of the area were helped by the arrival of four 6-pounder anti-tank guns for use against sea-borne invasion. These were divided between Malsi and Soanotalu. The threat of counter-invasion was still present, despite the American campaign on Bougainville, and the battalion was required to maintain continuous observation posts both at Soanotalu and Malsi, and later at Luana also. Through binoculars, an enemy watch tower could be seen on Shortland Islands, a mere 18 miles away, from which the enemy no doubt constantly watched us. This game of cat watching mouse, and vice versa, across a narrow strip of sea, continued for the duration of our seven-months stay in the Treasuries. About all the observation posts ever were the great fleets of Allied bombers and fighters cruising north to hit enemy targets, and the occasional display of American naval power in the Shortlands area. But each evening there was the fine spectacle of the motor torpedo boats roaring out from Blanche Harbour to chase enemy shipping during the night. With their huge bow wave, these tough little craft made a great picture. Usually just before dawn, they would come home, sometimes a little battered, but still looking very pugnacious.

It is right and proper to call attention to the work done by the signals platoon up till now, without suggesting any comparison with the fine job performed by every other platoon of the battalion. For the 'sigs' are a clan apart, responsible only to that great idol 'communications'. To appease and satisfy this greedy Deity, 'sigs' will do anything. They left Tongatabu with as fair a collection of allied phone equipment as the eye has ever rested on; they 'borrow' cable, pliers, trucks, in fact anything, with an air of the greatest innocence; they 'wired-up' their store tent at Bouloupari so as to pass electric shocks though any intruder; no one is quite sure what they are doing, or why they are doing it. But they achieve results, sometimes, it seems, contrary to all the laws of man and nature. They dug the exchanges into the sides of their own fox-holes. They wearily trailed reels of combat wire behind jungle patrols. When all other men were weather-bound, they took it as part of the day's work to go forth in the dark or storm, to check on lines that had 'gone out'. Over on Stirling, they had the heart-breaking task of putting up their page 82lines only to find them smashed by the bulldozers time and time again. On Mono, they laid their cables under the constant threat of snipers. 'Sigs' did their job well. They certainly had the laugh on one ambitious Jap, who apparently went to no end of trouble to cut a line half way between Malsi and Soanotalu. The poor man didn't know that the line was a disused one, and in any event only went another 100 yards. Then there was the other innocent Japanese who plunged into the sea (probably crying Banzai) swam around the nearest headland, landed on the beach, and thought he was on the Shortlands. Even when the natives brought him into Malsi camp, he still insisted that he had swum all the way across.

By 10 November, sleeping at night had returned to normal. During the action, men had had to take the risk of contracting malaria. The heavy camouflage clothing, mosquito repellant, and a stronger daily dose of atebrin were the only precautions available. Now, with everyone sleeping above ground once more, mosquito nets became compulsory, and the atebrin doseage reduced to a half-tablet a day. The battalion anti-malaria squad started its work of draining and spraying. B company returned home from the 36th, staying a while at Soanotalu before taking up permanent residence at Luana—to be known later as the 'Brooks Estate'. Hitherto B company had killed only one Jap (the score was increased later) while the records of the other companies were: A, 12; C, 35; D, 60.

As proof that the 'fire-fight' was over, battalion headquarters began producing routine orders again. For them, too, the paper war recommenced, with calls from higher headquarters for lists of captured equipment, explanations, recommendations for awards, and reports on many subjects connected with the action. Post mortem conferences were held to thrash out and report on the many administrative, planning, and tactical problems that had arisen during the campaign, for the benefit of those taking part in similar operations in the future. The remainder of November can be passed over rapidly. 'Washing-machine Charlie' was a very frequent visitor, and not a day passed without the wail of the sirens.

It was not long before the whole battalion was together again in the one sector. D company came back to Malsi from the 2,9th Battalion, and the remainder of headquarters company moved over from the dumps at Stirling. C company regained Lieutenant Sutherland's platoon from the 36th Battalion, and its two sections from the observation post at Wilson Point. This left the companies disposed page 83 as follows; Battalion headquarters, A, D and headquarters companies at Malsi; B company at Luana; C company at Soanotalu, along with the carrier platoon. Soanotalu was not a very pleasant camp site, with heavy undergrowth to clear, but both Malsi and Luana began to respond to intensive clearing. There were many Jap hunts. Natives would spot a Japanese in hiding, bring in word, and a patrol would investigate. Some were found dead, having committed suicide. One day two engineers reported that they had killed a Jap; a party went to bury the remains, only to find the corpse still alive and kicking. And D company was faced one day with the problem of whether it should immediately shoot, or attempt to take prisoner, an armed Japanese who was seen apparently fast asleep. War in the jungle had to be ruthless, for the Jap was a treacherous prisoner and never submitted tamely to capture. Mail started to arrive regularly. There was even turkey for Thanksgiving Day—a year had passed since the last one spent in Tongatabu—and there was a hum of activity around the lines as men built themselves native-type huts, or cut acres of sago palm fronds to thatch the new Ymca.