7th Parallel

Korero (AEWS), Volume 2, Issue 2, 31 January 1944, Page 11

7th Parallel

By

I was in camp in New Zealand when the newspapers announced that our

troops had landed on Vella Lavella and, later, on Mono in the Treasury Group. After looking for these places on the little maps the newspapers published I decided they must be very small and unimportant. They didn’t matter much to me, anyway, because I was

going to the Middle East.

But then I was suddenly withdrawn from the Middle East reinforcement and detailed to travel as a photographer with an official party that was to inspect New Zealand troops throughout the Pacific area. So I began to think about those islands then ; and what I thought of was those stories about coral reefs, swaying palms, tropic skies, and dusky maidens. I remembered, too, the terms which certain uncharitable people had used to describe our men in the Pacific— Coconut Bombers, Glamour Boys, Banana Pickers, and so on.

I soon found that the coral reefs are there all right, and the palm-trees, too ! and I even managed to photograph an occasional dusky maiden. But what I

hadn't thought about was the heat and the rain and mud and mosquitoes and the rest of the things contributing to the discomforts of life in the islands.' These are the things I shall tell you about. My first surprise was at Guadalcanal. As we flew along its coast I was astonished to find not a small island covered with palm trees, but a mountainous and heavily bushed island with small patches of open country that might have been grassed. It was a beautiful day and at 6,000 ft. up in the air we travelled in the greatest comfort

As we circled the landing-field I could see great activity everywhere. Roads almost obscured by dust from the heavy traffic ran in every direction between the rows of palms, and stores and equipment were in great piles under the trees. As we left the plane the heat was almost unbearable and the glare from the white coral landing strip made me thankful for dark glasses. I had to start work at once, and on this and subsequent days I worked in terrific heat. The slightest effort would make me wet through with perspiration.

I travelled from place to place in a jeep, always through heavy clouds of dust. It was impossible to keep clean, and I had little time for washing clothes. After I had had a bath in a bucket I was hotter than before. Going to bed meant taking off my clothes and lying down on the blankets, always after making sure that my mosquito net was firmly in place and that all the mosquitoes were outside. As a protection against malaria I was given half a little yellow pill each day of the week and a whole one on Sundays. At mess the food was tinned or dehydrated. We were lucky to see butter. Usually it was margarine or fat spread which I didn’t like and so went without. * * * When a plane made of thin metal has been lying out in the Solomons sun for a time it becomes like an oven inside and the outside becomes too hot to touch. The only temptation to enter it is the thought of the coolness some thousands of feet above. At about

8,000 ft. the air inside the plane becomes pleasantly cool, and because of this the hops to Munda, Vella Lavella, and Mono were all too short. * * * Vella Lavella is a big island and, like Guadalcanal, mountainous and covered with dense jungle. New Zealand troops were here in strength and the work of building roads and establishing camps was making great headway. The camps were laid out with coral paths and were clean and tidy. Some of the paths had been lined with coconuts which had sprouted and grown three or four feet high. It looked as if a coconut dropped in the wrong place might become a tree almost overnight. One man had prepared a small garden and had acquired some dried beans from the cookhouse. In twenty-four hours these became plants an inch high, but from then on they grew tall and spindly and looked pale and unhappy. Like the gardener, it seemed, they didn’t like Vella Lavella.

As we arrived on Mono a heavy shower of rain fell. The bush dripped, the half-made roads became streams, and water seemed to penetrate everywhere. When we walked our boots acquired thick coral soles from the paths, and when we drove the jeeps squelched through deep mudholes and slid over great roots. For nearly a fortnight our troops here had lived in the bush on iron rations, lying down to sleep on their ground-sheets and managing as best they could. Here was real jungle, dark and wet with few open spaces. Photographs without a flashlight were almost out of the question. The men were working hard to establish camps. Without shirts, they were covered in mud and filth. They had to hack their way through the bush, clearing paths, building bridges, felling trees, and removing roots

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and stumps. The jungle was so thick that a division could be concealed within a few T hundred yards ; yet the work of clearing it went on in terrific unrelenting heat. I remember talking on Vella Lavella to a soldier who had something to say about conditions in the islands. “ It’s this heat we don’t like,” he said, “ and the rain and mud and mossies and other insects. We hate the sight of coconut-palms and the taste of dehydrated food, and we’ve nowhere to go if we get any leave. What we think about is good food and hot baths and iced beer back home. Tell any one who thinks we’re enjoying this that any of us will gladly change places with him.” I certainly have no wish to see the Solomons again.