Chapter Fifteen
Manoeuvres

Whether it was to test out the capacity of engineers as wet weather road builders or not, the fact remains that on those occasions when manoeuvres were the order of the day rains always seemed to descend, floods seemed to come and both of them to beat upon us hard. Of course we just carried on as if nothing had happened. Pick and shovel jobs shovelling up the earth that fell from cliff-faces and the extraction of trucks from the mud which had bogged them are only to be expected in training for a jungle war. Above all, such manceuvres are valuable as training in self-control and patience.

In Fiji it was the custom to 'stand-by' or 'stand-to.' The gunpits we had built and adorned provided a home away from home in the dark midnight hours. In fact so smart did we become at settling in at our prepared positions that a couple of hours' notice sufficed to man the guns and check the demolition points. Battle headquarters, carved from rock, developed with, the months into comfortable caves, complete with lighting plant—albeit a little overfull of carbon monoxide fumes from the petrol engine. Cosy huts of acquired timber and boardwalks added to the later conveniences and ere we left the island we had but lingering memories of sitting for weeks in slit trenches as practice on abortive alarms or chasing each other in convoys to meet the 'foe' at Navua's screwpine beach. Nor was it only the weather that hampered us on these occasions. The problems of a fleeing civil population were made all too apparent to some engineer drivers, at least, along the Suva-Nausori highway. However, just as we had learned, after much practice, exactly where to go and what to do if It happened we came home to smite the Kaimais.

From 20 to 28 October 1942, the warriors of the 20th and 23rd Field aided by 37th Field Park detachments, warred with jungle ferocity in the fastnesses above Matamata and Tauranga. We started off in lovely weather and were set for a rapid advance on the foe. Five miles of jungle track appeared like magic, the bulldozer working overtime to make a jeep trail along which Jehu officers drove furiously. While testing the capacity of the jeep on a down grade it was nothing for companion officers to be thrown out clean upon their heads. Enthusiastic sappers with visions of promotion recced for prisoners who could give information. They sneaked up on gun positions, planted the MGs, sur-rounded the crew and then found them brothers in arms, fighting a foe invisible to both parties. Then, with the usual spot of rain, the fun started. The jeep trail disappeared under a sea of mud, trucks already in got stuck, others coming in got stuck. Food grew scarce. The sappers began to tear tree ferns to bits in order to make corduroy. A 'Devil's Staircase' of bush tracking brought up the field park quota. The home guard rallied round. Perhaps it was as well since we had a 10 day ration equal to their two day ration. Supplementary geese, duck and sheep murdered while on the preserves cost the 23rd Field a small matter of a fiver in fines. We returned to Te Rapa racecourse still hungry but covered in glory.

Once fully established in New Caledonia as divisional troops it became the joy of the field park bridging section to rush about the countryside worrying other sappers with their equipment. With the folding boats on behind they roared through the dust or mud to share in the exercises at Pouembout, Tontouta, at Bouloupari or on and around Mt. Vincent. Assault crossings with gear were practised in odd corners, the small box girder was shoved from one end of Nepoui flat to the other, in mud; the priceless folding boat equipment was folded and unfolded with loving care. Tubular steel connectors and couplers were cheerfully trodden into the river banks. With happy abandon loaded lorries were driven, in Stygian darkness, up to within 40 yards of a water jump and the sappers piled out. A few saplings might suffer in such a drive but will-o'-the-wisp lanterns in benzine tins, slit-numbered, served to guide us. Under the watchful eye of the supposed enemy, the FBE, the SBG, the TS and the timber were all unloaded. In a silence broken only by an occasional page 88curse the folding boats were dragged to the water's edge. With suitable noises they were unfolded. Somewhat confused with the excitement and bright lights of torches, the work parties lugged the SBG over the ground, stumbling at obstacles natural and unnatural. So far as is known no one was ever stunned by any approaching road bearer, but probably more by good luck than by good management. Pieces of timber, bit by bit, were ferried to the other side of the river, the water wet, but no more so than the bank seats. Anti-tank guns went across on improvised rafts of two assault boats and kapok mattresses. When a ferry was constructed for bren carriers it was no one's fault if the shore end of a floating bav should come adrift—not having been tethered—and describing a graceful arc, should land on the water and in a few seconds transform a ferry into a slipway. Never was a bren carrier more neatly launched, only the champagne bottle being missed.

Other manoeuvres were enjoyed by sapper representatives sent out among the battalions to startle with their sand-bombs. Saws and barbed wire were also carried for miles in the early morning mists while suitable bridging sites were located. Platoon com-manders took their men on three-day hikes along the deer trails, and stragglers therefrom straggled back down the green ribbons of moisture which cut the wildernesses of niaouli. Finally the formation of battalion combat teams gave one platoon the opportunity of the first amphibious training on board the ill-fated John Penn. For the remainder, however, amphibious training en route north was all sufficient though none the less appreciated as neces-sary and useful.

Arrangements for going aboard the transport after a long trip down the length of New Caledonia were better for the engi-neers than for the infantry. We at least walked up the gangway for a start. Later on we had a fair share of up and down the nets—diamond pattern preferred. Three times in the morning and three in the afternoon, then a little practice in quick unloading, one-third cargo off in daylight, then one-third off at night, one-half off in daylight and later one-half off at night. This game we played in the outer Noumea harbour. Thence, by President boats and others less commodious, we shipped north. With prac-tice even the lighter chaps loaded up with gear had finally learned to make the top rail and not have to walk up the gangway, so we page break

Stores for the Nissan operation, referred to as 'Squarepeg,' are being prepared by men of the 37th Field Park on Guadalcanal. The jungle construction company of the unit is seen below in its improvised workshop

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During manoeuvres at Pouembout, New Caledonia, engineers spanned the' river with lliis small box girder
Folding boat equipment was put to good use during manceuvres when a tidal creek had to lie crossed

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Open-air cinemas in the Solo-mons. On Mono Island the 29th Battalion built St. James' Theatre at Falamai, above. On the right is Joroveto theatre during a service on Christmas morning 1943. Below is the Torahaup Theatre on Nissan

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Timber milled by New Zealanders in the nearby jungle was used for the construction of this and other huts on Nissan. The engineers lay marsden matting in the Pokonian plantation as a road way for vehicles coming off the LSTs

page 89left no one behind on that account. Monkeys of a unit might swarm up the loose ropes sailor fashion if they wished. Once on board we queued up for food, pictures, soda-siphon lifebelts, or atebrin in a temperature of 98 to 100 degrees. At Vila, in the New Hebrides, we stopped to practise landings. Fortunate groups might get off a transport let down easily from the davits; but for most of us it was a slow progress down the net with some-one's boots not too high above the fingers. The engineer padre who blacked out on the rope was not only shaken up in the barge below but, quite incorrectly; dead and buried by rumour within a few hours. Flattened to the bottom of the landing craft with the heat of the sun and the threats of the OC boat, we crouched down till the joints grew stiff. When things were getting interest-ing we poked up our inquisitive heads to watch the line of boat wakes racing towards the shore. Actual disembarkation was made difficult if the barge failed to get its prow square on to the sand of Mele Beach. In this case a big wave might well tip you over the platform into the surf and this meant that your best friend got saltwater up the spout. But wet pants or no the manoeuvre must go on. Jeep tracks were driven into the coconut plantations, marsden matting was buried in the sand, equipment was piled high on the beach and assumed battle headquarters occupied. Strictly on the QT some of the natives who were friendly came across with a cup of tea for the lucky ones!

Here we had the first taste of the job in front. It looked like warm work anyway whether we were opposed on landing or had a nice ride into shallow water as at Vila. Sure enough it was going to be a 'ruthless' war!