III
Boguen

Meanwhile the advanced party of 23 all ranks, under Lieutenant-Colonel Sayers, ably supported by those veterans, Major Brunette and Major L. S. Talbot, the eye and ear, nose and throat specialist of the force in Fiji, had arrived in Noumea on 7 December, 1942. After six days in the transit camp in the Dumbea Valley they travelled north to Boguen River Valley, arriving in the mid-afternoon in pouring rain. The feelings of the advanced party can well be imagined when the guide pointed to a desolate, niaouli-covered, mosquito-infested area and said, 'Here it is.' However, they set to work erecting tents, digging drains and latrines and setting up a cookhouse. On 17 December their period of complete isolation ended when a telephone was installed and a jeep made available. Contacts and exploration beyond the valley to Bourail, the island's second largest town, some ten miles away, were then possible.

Christmas Day, 1942, was an eventful one because, contrary to expectations, a dinner of turkey, green peas and new potatoes was provided from American sources; secondly, because 25 December marked the first real attack From an invading horde of mosquitoes; and, thirdly, because the first mail from home was received. The Christmas Day invasion by the mosquitoes was but a taste of what was yet to come and from then on these pests were a terrific problem. They became incredibly bad—so bad that at the end of December the advanced party searched without success for an alternative, less mosquito-ridden site for the hospital.

On New Year's Eve, 1942, the main body of the unit arrived at the very beautiful harbour of Noumea—beautiful even in the majesty of its war-time occupants—and the New Year dawned in a new land, where we would serve under strange conditions, facing an unknown future, but one which we felt confident would lead us to adventure and battle. On 1 January, 1943, we disembarked, to be temporarily accommodated at the Valle des Colons, where, later, No. 1 NZ Transit Camp was built. The mysteries of a French colonial town were explored before the party set off, on 3 January, 1943, in open trucks on the rough and dusty 120-rnile drive to our new home at Boguen. There we found our site in a fairly wide valley surrounded by hills and covered by typical open bush of niaouli trees—a species of eucalyptus. The advanced party had done its work well and we found a camp where accommodation tents, mess tents, cookhouse and administrative centres were all ready for use, a main road had been constructed, and even swimming pools in the river had been allocated for the various sections of the unit.

From then on followed a period of two months that all will remember for its toil under the pioneer conditions of our forebears—a period of bush felling and clearing, of road construction, of a never-ending battle against nature and her mud, rain and mosquito hordes. But, above all, there was an all-pervading sense of good fellowship and cheerfulness under difficult conditions. Days of work were relieved by visits to neighbouring units and to the beach at Bourail, with its rolling surf. Local talent was unearthed and many pleasant and amusing evenings were spent in debates and concerts. During this period our carpenters excelled themselves in the construction of native type huts for the administrative centre, cookhouses and mess huts—all built from the stripped trunks of niaouli trees and thatched by natives with grasses or bark. These natives, of whom we employed 25, belonged to various tribes around the area and came under the control of Staff-Sergeant Eric Lash, whose knowledge of the French language and whose innate persuasive manner could rouse even the most lethargic Kanaka to some show of energy. Our admiration for the ubiquitous niaouli increased as we saw our own native type bures rising and as we noted the multifarious functions it was called upon to perform for the natives.

With the assistance of engineers from the 23rd Field Company, a working party from 1st Scots Battalion, a bulldozer and page 46

Units were widely scattered in New in New Caledonia. The 4th General Hospital was finally established at Dumbéa

page 47our own personnel, roading was completed, concrete floors laid for tented wards, kitchens and the operating theatre, a water supply from the river installed, and an intricate drainage scheme for the whole area inaugurated. The main portion of the hospital equipment arrived from the dump at Nepoui during the first and second weeks of February, and the opening date for the reception of patients loomed near. With the equipment came four generators, and, for the first, time, electric light was seen in Boguen Valley.

Under the enthusiastic patronage of Padre J. W. Parker a garden was started on an acre of excellent alluvial ground between the hospital and river. It was planned to use the oxen and plough of our Arab farmer host, but the ecclesiastical language of the padre had seemingly no effect on the oxen, and the field was finally dealt with, to the amazed horror of the Arab, by the simple expedient of towing the plough behind a jeep. Later, under the capable direction of Privates Fred Seager and Noel Pachoud, the garden prospered and produced fresh vegetables for the hospital at a time when they were otherwise unobtainable.

January and February saw two exceedingly bad periods when mosquitoes nearly drove us to distraction. Lack of relief by day or by night, frayed tempers, and a rapidly sinking morale interfered with work and made clear thinking or concentration well-nigh impossible. Despite oiling and draining of likely breeding grounds and adjacent pools and swamps, and the cutting of tall grass which provided shelter for the adult mosquitoes, these pests were never entirely eliminated. Experience suggested a certain amount of periodicity of the worst attacks associated with the full moon and high tides, which favoured the breeding of the most common mosquito at Boguen—the aedes vigilax, a salt marsh breeder.

It was during this early period that we experienced our first major fire. During a debate, and in the middle of an attack on the modern woman, a riot was only averted by shouts of 'Fire.' One of the big hospital marquees, full of inflammable stores, was so firmly ablaze that all that could be done, since we lacked effective fire-fighting equipment, was to prevent the fire from spreading to other tents. The staff, with the willing if excited assistance of the natives, acquitted itself well, and tents were page 48struck and contents moved to safer distances, while bucket brigades were formed and finally quelled what was left of the flames. The damage was considerable, and our nurses spent weary weeks sorting and salvaging the burnt linen, washing it, drying it, and converting it to useful articles for the hospital.

Eventually the hospital opened for the reception of patients early in March. Though additional wards were still required and much work yet remained to be done, we managed to continue our expansion ahead of the rate of influx of patients. The original operating theatre, comprising a single large Indian pattern tent, with a smaller tent as an ante-room, boasted a concrete floor and insect proofing, and some excellent surgery was performed in this rather rudimentary structure. Later the theatre was enlarged to consist of four large Indian pattern, tents arranged to form a cross, with a space in the centre giving access to a theatre on either side, a changing room in front, and a sterilising room behind. This arrangement worked admirably.

St. Patrick's Day, 1943, was significant to others besides the Irish, for on that day we had our first hurricane warning. The Fijian stalwarts had always conjured up vivid pictures in the minds of the tyros of what a real hurricane could do, and so the peace of the hospital was somewhat rudely disturbed on 17 March, when an official hurricane warning was given. Parties were duly detailed to stand by and carry out the ritual of dropping tents after placing the contents well in towards the centre. How the patients would fare if such a procedure had to be adopted was never really discovered because the necessity to carry it out —thanks, no doubt, to St. Patrick—never arose.

The first few months in New Caledonia will be remembered as the days of 'spam' and 'chili con carne.' Over 90 per cent of the food came out in tins and, in actual fact, a moderate but definite degree of macrocytic anaemia was found amongst a number of the staff. During March, however, supplies of fresh meat began to come in and then fresh vegetables and fruit. At about this time a new appointment was made, and a messing officer, Lieutenant W. Blakey, was appointed to our quartermaster's staff. This officer handled the messing of staff and patients and controlled the purchasing of certain local fruits and vegetables, eggs, fish and fresh milk from French inhabitants. When an additional team of trained cooks arrived from New Zealand, and with the help of locally produced fresh foods, mess-page 49ing at 4th NZ Genera! Hospital never looked back. In the following months the hospital slowly settled down into the routine of a war-time army hospital—always busy with always new problems arising, so that life was seldom monotonous. Sports teams developed and achieved their measure of success. Entertainments were given by hospital and other concert parties. Mobile cinemas made a very welcome appearance, and so the 4th NZ General Hospital gradually became a civilised community. Walking parties found many pleasant and interesting places to visit—magnificent views along the ridges and hilltops, bush clad hills and valleys and peeps of a deep blue sea and wavy coastline in the distance. During this period, too, weeks of high temperatures and high humidity gave way to cooler days and nights of unexpected freshness. Mosquito attacks eased as the temperatures became lower, but they never entirely deserted the hospital.

In June we became parent to yet another attached unit—a subsection of No. 1 Mobile Dental Section, under Captain W. R. Hamilton, NZDC. This section, which later became No. 1 Maxillo Facial Injury Section, provided dental services for patients and staff of the hospital and troops in the area. On 16 July a new era dawned with the arrival of two officers and 78 other ranks of the New Zealand Women's Army Auxiliary Corps. Prior to this date six somewhat shy Waacs could be sometimes seen in the vicinity of the sisters' mess or recreation hut, but when this latter band arrived the male members of the staff realised that the bachelor days of the 4th NZ General Hospital were at an end and that henceforth the woman's hand would become increasingly evident. For days before their arrival working parties had been busy preparing the 'Waacery' so that the girls might have some comfort. They soon became a happy, thoroughly established and important section of the 4th General. There were two sections—the nurses of the voluntary aid section and the typists, clerks, telephone operators, seamstresses and laundry personnel of the general duties section. With the arrival of the Waacs many of the original male members of the unit were released to the divisional field ambulances and the casualty clearing station. By this time fortnightly clinical meetings had been instituted at the hospital. These meetings served the purpose of keeping medical officers of field ambulances and other field units in touch with the clinical work going on in the hospital and to stimulate their interest in medical problems generally. To in-page 50crease the interest in such meetings medical officers from the American armed forces were invited to attend and to contribute papers on subjects of medical interest.

For manifold reasons the medical and dental facilities available to civilians in New Caledonia were limited, and the local inhabitants throughout the island availed themselves of a service offered by allied military hospitals. At Boguen there was a constant stream of French, Javanese, Tonkinese, Arabs and Kanakas—all seeking medical advice or treatment for their many ailments. Language differences caused some confusion, but the pooling of the combined lingual talent of the staff and the frequent use of sign language usually overcame the difficulty. An incident in these dealings with New Caledonians is here reproduced from our first unit magazine. 4th Generalities: ' "Orderly, next patient, please." This request produces a dark, poorly shaven man with a rather vacant look. Answering the question, "Ou avez vous mal?" he opens his mouth and points with his finger. The opened mouth displays an array of tobacco-stained, crag-like teeth, and without more ado he is led to the nearby dental officer. After some time has elapsed a scared face with a blood stained mouth reappears in the doorway and says in broken English, "The teeth, they are out, but the throat he is sore still." ' Despite such misunderstandings, that our efforts were appreciated was evidenced by the profusion of thanks showered on us, and, far more welcome, by the gifts of delicacies and rare wines and spirits given us during the Christmas season.

The hospital had now developed into a large and fairly permanent institution. The building programme had been completed, and pack stores, ration stores, additional administrative buildings and consulting rooms were all housed in bures, though tentage was retained for all wards, the theatre, personnel quarters and some hospital departments. The social life of the unit had advanced considerably since the advent of the large draft of Waacs in July, and, for the same reason, the number of visitors to the hospital had shown a marked and steady increase. Firm favourite with all in the unit was the Boguen River. Here is a tribute paid it by one of our members: 'We swim in her, wash clothes, trucks, dogs, and ourselves in her. We fish in her, and carry her to our tents and boil her up for supper. Without her we would be dry, dirty and poorer in mind and body. Varying from a swirling torrent to a placid pool, she has more moods than the page 51most temperamental actress, but still she holds first place in the hearts of men who have learned to appreciate the few comforts that they have. In years to come you will hear bearded and gouty men extolling the virtues of that most useful and versatile stretch of water—the Boguen River—" Our River." '

In August, 1943, the division began its move to the Solomons, and it became obvious that, to cater for divisional troops under these changed circumstances, the 4th NZ General Hospital would have to shift its location nearer to a port or an airfield or, if possible, within easy distance of both. The Boguen site had been selected in 1942 for tactical reasons, and it had served the division and base organisation well for some six months. A new site was finally chosen on the slopes of a hill in the Dumbea Valley, within easy range of both the Noumea Harbour and Tontouta airfield. There, a far different hospital from the tented institution at Boguen was to be built—a modern hospital of prefabricated parts prepared in New Zealand. The building was to be undertaken in two phases—the first to provide enough wards and services for an estimated number of sick and wounded expected back from the Solomons in October, together with the necessary staff accommodation. The second phase provided for the remainder of the buildings and services to complete the hospital. A quarter of a million prefabricated parts were necessary for the first phase and over 300,000 for the second. Orders had been placed in various factories in New Zealand for the prefabricated parts and by early September a fleet of trucks ran a 24-hour service for some days to bring the parts from the docks to Dumbea. The engineers of the Works Services Construction Company, under Major E. Blacker, NZE, did a magnificent job in assembling the buildings, and our American allies, who are accustomed to speed, were amazed as they watched the mushroom growth on the hillside.

Pending the erection of yet another hospital at Kalavere, which was to work in conjunction with the 2nd NZ Convalescent Depot, the deputy director of medical services decided to leave a hospital at Boguen to service base troops in the Bourail area. This hospital, under the command of Major Willis, with Charge-Sister E. D. Cargo as matron, was staffed by our personnel and became known as Boguen Detachment, 4th NZ General Hospital. Always a happy centre, Boguen continued to flourish, and the page 52peak of good times was reached there at Christmas, 1943, which will long be remembered for the celebrations and good cheer made possible to a large extent by the surfeit of good things donated by grateful New Caledonians. Patients were treated to a traditional Christmas, and Sergeant M. Guy, a generously proportioned X-ray technician, made a convincing Santa Claus as he distributed gifts from an ornately bedecked, bullock-drawn 'sleigh.'

Late in January, 1944, No. 2 NZ Convalescent Depot assumed responsibility for staffing Boguen, though 4th General left sufficient equipment for a 60-bed hospital. Captain F. N. Sharpe, with Charge-Sister M. W. Gunn as matron, controlled the destinies of the hospital until March, when the new Kalavere Hospital was ready for occupation and Boguen was finally closed.

The hospital in Boguen River Valley will be remembered by many members of the NZEFIP—by almost 3,000 patients who were treated in its wards, by the many visitors to see friends, male or female, who lived there, by the traveller who stopped for a meal or bed to break the tedious journey up or down the island, by troops on leave who came to rest in the quiet of the valley, and last, but certainly not least, by the members of the staff. Boguen to them may recall memories of hard work, incessant mosquito trouble, rain and mud, but it will also recall memories of quiet nights in the valley when the toil of the day was over, moonlight glowing through the niaoulis, beach and river excursions in glorious weather, those countless little incidents which seemed to make army life bearable and even interesting— but we remember pre-eminently the spirit of camaraderie which was so characteristic of our service there.