Chapter Six
Defence of Tongatabu

Tongatabu mean 'Sacred Tonga'. This name attests the importance which the island has always held in the minds of generations of Tongan people. For it is the main island of the whole Kingdom of Tonga, and has, from the earliest days of Tongan history up to the present, been the residence of the ruling kings, the centre of religious and social life, and the chief point of trade. Tonga consists of three main groups—Tongatabu in the south, then Ha-abai 99 miles to the north, with the third group Vava'u another 70 miles northwards. Farthest flung of all the islands of the Kingdom are Niua Fo'ou (the famous Tin-can Island) some 380 miles north of Tongatabu and, to the south, 85 miles distant, the ancient volcanic cone of Ata. These groups support a total population of nearly 33,000, of which 15,000 are found on Tongatabu alone. It is by far the largest island, having an area of 99 square miles, with its extreme length eighteen and a half miles, and greatest breadth nine miles. On its northern shore stands Nuku-alofa, capital of the Kingdom, centre of government and trade, and the home of the sovereign.

The ship on which the battalion travelled had an illustrious record, having been one of the convoy that landed the first American troops on Guadalcanal. But the knowledge of this renown did not offset the disheartening effects of mal de mer, which in the first two rough days at sea took heavy toll. On the morning of the fourth day, 27 October, we came in slowly through the entrance in the reef, into the glassy-smooth waters of Nuku-alofa Harbour. Spread out before us lay the island of Tongatabu, densely clad in coconut palms, with the few red roofs of Nuku-alofa township glinting in the sun. As far as the eye could see, this new land was as flat as a pancake.

We later found that the highest point of the island, in the remote south-eastern corner, was only 270 feet above sea-level.

Disembarkation began soon after mid-day, and the unloading of stores and equipment continued throughout most of the night. The news that several hundred bottles of beer amongst the cargo had been pillaged during the unloading did not help the frayed tempers of the working parties. On shore convoys of American trucks were waiting to transport the battalion to its sector—the reserve area—situated on flat thickly-wooded ground about six miles south of Nuku-alofa. Our reception by the Americans was very cordial; they provided a hot meal that evening, and throughout our stay in Tongatabu, the warmest possible relations existed between us. We served under the direct command of American Force Headquarters commanded by Brigadier-General B. R. Lockwood, and at no time was there the slightest element of friction. Rather was their goodwill manifest in a variety of ways—the opening to our troops of their post exchanges (corresponding to our canteens), the supply of numerous items of equipment, clothing and transport, and the arrangement whereby our troops were able to share in the use of the Red Cross recreation centre at Nuku-alofa.

We worked in the closest liaison. Lieutenant E. D. Burton was permanently attached to force headquarters in the operations room, while Second Lieutenant S. W, Smith became a liaison officer to the American ground force headquarters. We had an officer (Lieutenant H. B. Martin) on full-time duty with force intelligence, and detached another (Second-Lieutenant G. R. Black) to the air-warning-centre. Several of our signallers were used to augment the communications staff at the airfield, where they had work of much technical difficulty and importance. In December Colonel Eyre was appointed executive officer of all ground forces, serving under the American commander of ground forces, who was in turn responsible to Brigadier-General Lockwood, in command of the whole base, its air, naval, and ground resources.

From the Americans we acquired much knowledge which later was to be very useful to us. In return, we think they were able to benefit from us, particularly in connection with beach defences, and our adaptability to jungle conditions. Reserve area was undoubtedly gloomy. This was on account of the rigorous camouflage policy that was in force, requiring all overhead cover to be left standing. The camp consisted of American-type tents, with Quonset page 41huts for use as orderly rooms, kitchens, and stores. A quarter of a mile away was the rocky south coast of the island, and here, amongst the jagged coral pools we got some swimming. Along this coast, the coral reef actually formed the shore-line, its sharp threatening bulwarks a sufficient insurance against any attempt by an enemy to effect a landing. In contrast, on the Nuku-alofa side of the island, the reef ran out to sea, in some places several miles from the shore, leaving quiet lagoons and bright sandy beaches.

The fleas of Tongatabu! There are two natural pests that have left their mark on the 34th Battalion—the mosquitoes of Bouloupari, New Caledonia, and the fleas of Tongatabu. The importance of the flea menace became so great that battalion headquarters sent two cables to Army Headquarters, Wellington, appealing for advice and assistance. Many fantastic devices were tried to keep the insects out of beds and blankets where they congregatd, literally, in hundreds and deprived men of sleep for nights on end. Fortunately they proved to be only a seasonal pest and had all but disappeared in December. There was, as usual, a period of settling in to the new camp area, sorting the equipment that had been landed on the

Tongatabu where the Battalion spent a brief period

Nuku-alofa waterfront and, as ever, improvising gadgets and articles to improve personal comfort. Work took the form of some route marching, company exercises, and patrols that were required to cover possible landing places on the south coast, during hours of darkness. Road-making was a vital task also. The battalion had come equipped with 2-wheel-drive vehicles, which soon showed their inadequacy for rough clay roads under wet conditions. The company commanders had Morris cars, suitable for good roads in good weather, but to ride in them was at the risk of complete and utter collapse in the muddy crevasses that lined the roadways. Later jeeps came from New Zealand, and the transport officer, Lieutenant L. J. Kirk, by some curious business deal of which the facts were shrouded in mystery, acquired from American sources a number of 4-wheel-drive trucks which could tackle the worst that Tongatabu had to offer.

After Fiji, Tonga seemed to us fairly well away from the war zone but the authorities took no chances. Over the first two months there was morning stand-to from 4.30 am to 5.15 am while battle stations were manned at any hint of danger, even very far off. To give visual observation over the entire coastline of the island, the Americans had established watch-towers at strategic points. These structures, of the barest scaffolding, with perpendicular ladders and a small exposed platform at the top, looked very flimsy, and to climb them was quite an experience, especially the 90-feet tower near West Point, at the time when the ladder was broken in places. After training in the work of these towers, men from the battalion took over the job of manning them.

After two weeks at reserve area, the battalion moved out at short notice to take over the eastern sector from an American infantry battalion. Battalion headquarters, with headquarters company and B company occupied Mua, the ancient capital of Tongatabu, roughly in the centre of the sector, about two miles from the eastern coastline. Headquarters of A company was at a point known as RJ 49, about three miles north of Mua, with platoons detached to coastal outposts at Niutoua, Manuka and Kolonga. At these points, D (support) company kept machine-gun and mortar detachments, with company headquarters at Kolonga. C company did not move out to the eastern sector with the rest of the battalion, but had the task of protecting a coastal battery near Nuku-alofa from a new camp in the 'centre support' area. Vickers and mortars were also detailed to help in this role.

The coastal outposts were quite an unusual feature of the Tongatabu defence plan. Those along the north coast, at Manuka, Kolonga and Niutoua, were strong in fire-power with a variety of weapons but only a few riflemen. Then down the eastern coast and on the rocky south shoreline, smaller posts, mostly for observation purposes, were held by single sections. B company, from Mua, supplied the personnel for these. Lastly the aerodrome guard was made the responsibility of the carrier platoon, and one rifle platoon, also from B company. Life at these outposts had a peculiarly independent flavour about it. The officer in charge exercised a considerable moral power amongst the nearby natives, exchanged goods with them, approved or disapproved their intended fishing trips, settled some of their arguments, and generally set himself up in the Sanders-of-the-river style. Little children came to him to be patted on the head.

The original plan was that the battalion should spend about six weeks on the eastern sector, and then return to reserve area, but with the departure of large numbers of the Americans the position so changed that we continued to occupy the sector for the remainder of our five-months stay on the island. There were only two changes in the disposition of companies. The camp at centre support was abandoned, C company coming back to reserve area on 28 November. Later it was taken out to the eastern sector, moving into RJ 49. From there A company was withdrawn to the reserve, its departure from RJ 49 being a highlight in social events, Captain J. A. Toon, the company commander having acquired a reputation amongst the natives as a man, just and right, was decorated with flowers by the local tahines (native girls) and was, with the rest of the company, being given a very tender and touching farewell when the colonel arrived. The convoy left for reserve area immediately, trailing flowers in its wake.

The camp at Mua was situated on historic ground where, in ancient times, the Tongans buried the more illustrious of their dead in elaborate tombs. These tombs (langi in the native tongue), of which there are 28 in the Mua area, are massive structures, roughly pyramidal in design, varying from thirty to forty yards square at their base, and sometimes about thirty feet high. They are built in terraces with great slabs of coral limestone. The hewing and transporting of these immense stones (some estimated to weigh 50 tons), with the most primitive tools and equipment, must have involved long page 44and arduous work by scores of men. It seems that it was the custom between 1200 and 1600 AD, when the tombs were built, to inter the physical remains of the Tu'i Tonga (Spiritual King) in the summit of the pyramid. Not infrequently hostile tribes raided Mua with the object of stealing the sacred bodies from their resting places. One tradition has it that, to prevent this, the old funeral directors actually used any lowly corpse available to put in the tomb, and buried the kingly cadavers elsewhere, out of the way of any plunderers. More famous is the edifice near Kolonga, the Ha-amonga Trilithon, built by the eleventh Tu'i Tonga, one Tu-itatui, about the year 1200 AD. Still a spectacle for tourists from all over the world, this remarkable stone monument consists of two huge oblong slabs set upright in the ground, with a third, of the same size, resting in grooves across the top. It bears a similarity to the ancient Celtic monuments at Stonehenge, England, but historians are not in agreement as to its original purpose or meaning. Possibly it was simply a memorial to the Tu'i Tonga, or maybe an entrance gateway to the royal compound. There it now stands, the undergrowth cleared from around it, but with the scrub forest pressing hard about it on all sides, treated with irreverence by soldiers who insisted on sitting on top of it, a mute reminder of an ingenious industrious people.

It is freely admitted that, of all the islands on which the battalion has served, Tongatabu was the most enjoyable. There were the early days of wearisome stand-to, there was a lot of monotonous guard duty at night for men at the posts and on the towers, and there was no civilian life to be enjoyed after the fashion of Fiji. There were times when rain made roads impassable, and tents were flooded inches deep, and there were days and nights when the mosquito seemed almost as bad as the flea. But once settled in to the camps in the eastern sector, we came to appreciate the mildness of the climate, the beauty of much of the scenery, the friendliness of the natives, and to take advantage of the ample time and opportunities there were for sports and recreation. For training there was a plentiful supply of ammunition for all weapons. The most interesting and profitable work with live rounds that the battalion had hitherto done was on the jungle courses that each company made. These involved men moving down prepared lanes through the undergrowth, with fast close-range shooting from the hip or shoulder at targets difficult to spot in the thick foliage. It was found that many men, mediocre at deliberate shooting on the rifle range, were adept at this type of page break

The battalion celebrated Christmas dinner 1942 at Manuka camp, Tonga. Tables were set under the palms. A popular outing was a visit to the 'tombs of the Kings', the path to which led under this ancient trilithon

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The Tongan interlude was net without interest. Above are the starters in an amateur horse race; on the left is one of the watch towers at West Point. Below is a view of Queen Salote's palace and village women beating tapa

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The flaming splendour of a sunset reflected in the tranquil langoon in Tonga

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Tongan roads dissolved into mud when the rains came. Below is a scene in D Company's lines and a view of the picturesque southern coast of Tonga where the waves have moulded the coral rock to fantastic shape

page 45instinctive aiming and firing. The RNZAF squadron stationed on the island co-operated in a training exercise one morning, their planes diving low to strafe targets close in-shore.

New weapons and equipment were tried out. The ST grenade (the stick bomb) was the subject of a course of instruction; it was chiefly remarkable for the big hauls of fish that its explosion in the sea produced. Prolific catches went to the credit of Captain E. M. Oswald and Second-Lieutenant B. R. Sneddon, while Major Logan, of the support company, established the record when from a well-chosen vantage point on the beach at Kolonga he landed over 300 fish with one bomb, enough to feed the entire population.

The residents of Mua, being inland did not get such opportunities for enriching their menu, and had to be content with the odd pig. Pigs, by the way, could almost be a symbol for Tongatabu for they were everywhere, frequently under the wheels of trucks and jeeps. Government statistics declare that there were 18,231 pigs in the Kingdom in 1931, so the odd one or two that were captured and fattened up in the pens at Mua would not be missed. An innovation was the formation of a 37-millimetre anti-tank platoon, and a reconnaissance platoon equipped with armoured half-track vehicles, supplied by the American forces. Nor should the bicycle platoons be overlooked, one in A company, another in C. Their bicycles were in great demand at the time of the battalion's sports meeting later on, when cycle races were a feature of the programme.

Talking of training would not be complete without mention of the thirsty route marches that became popular during the latter part of our sojourn in Tonga. There was some spice added to these, or to a number of them, by the requirement that the company must cross Fanga Uta, the mile-wide lagoon that makes a deep indentation into the northern coast of Tongatabu. Local resources had to be impressed for the crossing, and many weird tales are spun concerning the crazy craft that made perilous trips across the lagoon, laden down to the gunwales with men. Perhaps it would have heartened our troops had they known at the time that Captain Cook himself, on 26 June 1777, had sailed across Fanga Uta in a small boat during his third exploratory visit to Tonga.

Almost everything happened during the festive season on Tongatabu—battle alerts, eating and drinking traditional Christmas fare, sports meetings, and hurricane warnings. They began at 11.32 pm on the night of 23 December when warning of an approaching hurricane page 46was received by the battalion. Loose gear was packed and battens laid ready to hand to strengthen Quonset huts. But it passed off, and Christmas Day arrived with a programme of special church services and sporting fixtures, with exhibition cricket matches for the edification of our American friends, and a game of soccer against the US army in the afternoon. At Kolonga, a big crowd turned out to see a boxing match but as the main participants did not arrive a dull afternoon was expected watching impromptu bouts. However, there was plenty of excitement caused by one sturdy Tongan gladiator who went berserk when the American negro referee stopped him from striking his opponent when he was down. Some coloured American troops from outside the ring joined in, and there was a battle royal until some friends of the Tongan managed to quieten him. Turkey was on the menu for Christmas dinner that night. Full justice was done to the toothsome meat of the noble bird. Actually, this was the second time we had had turkey, for it is the American custom to supply turkey to all their troops on 25 November, Thanksgiving Day, and we had participated in the distribution on that day also.

The 29th of the month saw us in the throes of an alert, with special patrols and full manning of posts by night. This condition of readiness lasted until New Year's Day, when the danger (which seemed rather remote) apparently subsided altogether. But the spectre of war did not daunt the enthusiastic organisers of the battalion's festivities who, on the last day of the year, ran a spectacular sports meeting and gala at Mua. There were basketball tournaments, steeplechases, running events, cycle races, and horse-racing. Out of all the broken-down overloaded hacks ever seen by the casual visitor to the native villages, it was hardly to be expected that any could be found capable of standing up to more than two furlongs gallop. But 'horsey gents' of the battalion searched far and wide, and put in many hours assiduously training their entrants. As a result, many thrilling tussles were seen over the clay road that comprised the race-track. Sporting gentlemen like Jock Smith, 'Marty', 'Shorty' Howard and 'Whitey' were much in demand to give their advice on prospects, for a tote was in operation, and it handled an amazing amount of money. There was much disappointment from the heavy punters when Captain P. H. Brooks tailed the field on 'Grey Boy' but he retrieved his reputation at a later engagement. That night, supplies arrived for the wet canteen. This contributed to the undoubted page 47success of the concert and dance that was held on the recreation area at Mua. Native belles of the nearby villages came dressed in European evening frocks, escorted by their various relatives and danced shyly (and perhaps painfully) in their bare feet with the heavy-booted New Zealanders. Concluding item of the Yuletide gaiety was the storm warning on the morning of 2 January. Instructions were issued by force headquarters that all gear must be removed to points ten feet above highwater level. This evoked puzzled discussion at some posts, particularly Manuka, for the land for half a mile around that camp was not more than five feet above high water mark. However, the threatened tidal wave did not eventuate.

Friendly Island is the name often found on maps of Tonga. Strictly speaking, Friendly Island was the name given by Captain Cook to Lifuka, in the Ha-abai group, but Europeans came to apply it to the whole of the Tongan Islands. And although Tonga has had much bloodshed and strife in its last 200 years, the word 'Friendly' is most apt for its condition today. It seems an unconscious attribute of the New Zealander that he gets along well with native races, and in none of the islands the battalion has visited has a better feeling existed than pertained between our men and the native people of Tongatabu. Similar to the Maoris in colouring, appearance and language, they impressed us with their good humour, high standard of intelligence, and religious loyalty.

Official permission was given for men to attend native dances, or hula-hulas, which were regularly organised by girls of the villages for Tongan Patriotic and Red Cross purposes. These became very popular, and many good times were had in the ramshackle halls or cottages in which the hulas were held. So important as social functions did hula-hulas become that there came into being at Mua a society known as the 'Dalo-munchers Society'. Qualification for being a dalo muncher was to have been seen by a sentry walking home from a hula, with one of the tahines.. Actually a dalo-muncher was somewhat superior in the scale of values of the society, for the lowest order—that of a yam-eater—was conferred on anyone who attended a hula. Then came the muncher, and there were one or two grades more superior still. One quaint practice of the natives, which was not without its humorous side, was due to the absence of any form of fresh running water on the island. The only time a complete ablution was possible was during heavy rain, when young men and women in many villages would remove all their clothes and page 48 splash around with unashamed delight, out in the open, where they received the full benefit of the downpour. Unemotional Kiwis occasionally watched. There was one curious habit that the children had, and that was juggling. Toddlers of three and four years of age would be seen juggling with two or three balls, and children a few years older could juggle anything with great dexterity. All the children seemed to do it, and some of them very well indeed.

The Tongan men, though perhaps not as impressive as the Fijians were nevertheless of fine stamp. As soldiers in the Tonga Defence Force, which shared the protection of the island with American forces and ourselves, they displayed immense enthusiasm and much efficiency. Later, in the Solomons, this was to stand them in good stead under actual combat conditions. Apart from the mobilised force, fit young men in the villages were organised into Home Guard units. For the eastern area, Major Logan was appointed officer in command, with junior officers and non-commissioned officers in command at the separate villages. However, malm resulted in only small attendances at most places. We liked the Tongan natives, with them we enjoyed the same spirit of good-will as existed between us and the American troops and the few European civilians. Shortly before leaving, the colonel received the personal thanks of the British consul and the American commanding general for the good conduct of the men of the battalion whilst on the island.

Nuku-alofa had very little to offer to any men inclined to wander or hitch-hike that way on leave. There were a few European stores, their shelves pitifully bare. The remainder, Chinese, Indian, or half-caste, had the usual array of tropical souvenirs and worthless junk. One could lean over a stone wall and look at the palace of the Queen of Tonga or occasionally watch bananas being shipped to New Zealand at the wharf. There was one excellent institution that catered for men on leave—the Red Cross recreation centre, established by the Americans and opened to our battalion under an arrangement whereby we provided a share of the necessary fatigues and staff duties. Men went there for three-days' leave and had a thoroughly good time. Back in our own camps, Mr. Hugh Nees was a very popular Ymca secretary, and his activities helped immeasurably to ward off the monotony of garrison existence. Regular picture shows in the typical open-air theatres of the tropics were another diversion, even though the same films circulated time and again, and broke down at least once at every performance.

The people who care to lay odds on rumours were very confident that the battalion was to return to New Zealand after its term in Tongatabu. This supposition grew after battalion headquarters put out an instruction to prepare shipping lists and leave destinations, despite the statement that it was only a precautionary measure, and no inferences were to be drawn from it. But the fact that our departure was impending became clear when advanced staffs of officers began to arrive from New Zealand, with news that other troops were to relieve us. Marked by continuous heavy rain, the first week in March 1943 was largely devoted to packing and making final preparations for leaving the island. Finally, on 8 March, two New Zealand ships Monowai and Wahine hove-to in Nuku-alofa Harbour, and disembarked the 6th Battalion Canterbury Regiment, our relieving force which moved to the eastern sector to take cover. Our embarkation and loading of cargo was completed during the night, and early in the morning of the following day our ships moved out and headed westwards. There were still some optimists who thought New Zealand lay in that direction.