Sutherland pointed to a map of Australia
spread out on the table between them.
‘Their chiefs of staff say if the Japs mount
a full-scale invasion, they intend to only try and defend the most
populated and industrialized area of the country which is about
twenty percent of the land mass lying behind a line drawn between
Brisbane and Adelaide.’ Sutherland ran a finger across the map
between the two cities. ‘They call it the Brisbane Line, sir.’
‘And what about the rest of the country?’
MacArthur said incredulously.
‘They say they’ll have to abandon it to the
enemy, sir.’
The look of stunned amazement returned to
MacArthur’s face. ‘Who else knows about this Brisbane Line
plan?’
‘Just Allied top brass and a few senior
members of the Australian government. General, I think the people
would go berserk if they knew. It’s a desperate situation,
sir.’
‘Have the people any idea just how desperate
it is?’
‘Not really, sir. It’s all happened so
quickly. The average Australian never paid much attention to the
war in Europe or their Imperial Force volunteer soldiers who went
to fight with the British. They’re kind of isolationists out here.
Since World War One, successive governments have told them they
don’t need a regular army. Now there’s a war on their doorstep, the
people are scared and the politicians are ducking for cover. The
people have been kept pretty much in the dark. The press is only
allowed to publish the official government line. Even the truth of
what happened in Darwin was suppressed.’
MacArthur shook his head. ‘Well, now you’d
better give me the good news, if there is any. What support is
coming in from the States?’
‘Not a hell of a lot yet, sir. There’s about
forty thousand men on the way, mainly ground forces. They’re
expected here over the next few weeks. Most of them are aboard the
Queen Mary and the Queen Elizabeth and almost all are untrained.’
Sutherland frowned. ‘I’m afraid the amount of equipment and
supplies isn’t very encouraging either. The problem is, the war in
Europe gets top priority from the White House and there’s a chronic
shortage of shipping to transport what little is allocated to us
here. Then there are more problems when the ships do get here.’
‘What kind of problems?’
‘Trade union problems. Sometimes a ship
doesn’t get unloaded for weeks.’
‘Then we’ll unload our ships ourselves.’
‘The Australian Waterside Workers Federation
says if American troops unload ships they’ll shut down all the
ports in the country. They say their working conditions were too
hard won to relax them even if there is a war going on. They’ll
only work at their own speed or not work at all.’
‘God Almighty. Is there any good news at
all?’
‘Yes, there is.’ Sutherland smiled
reassuringly. ‘Some of the Australian Imperial Force serving
overseas with the British has been recalled. Up to fifty thousand
men will be back in Australia soon. And they are all seasoned
soldiers. They’re battle hardened and they’ve got more experience
than any of our guys, sir. If we’re going to try and beat the Nips
back to Japan we’re going to need the AIF badly, at least until we
can get our own forces trained and get the hardware we need from
the States.’
‘And what’s the present command set-up?’
‘It’s already been announced that you are to
take over command of all US forces in Australia,’ Sutherland said.
‘And its certain that you’ll be made Supreme Commander of a new
south-west Pacific area command very soon. The command will include
all Australian and American forces in and around Australia. I
understand the Commander in Chief of Australian Forces, General
Blamey will be your second in command. He’s on his way home from
Cairo right now. He boarded the Queen Mary in Cape Town. We expect
the announcements to be made after you meet with Prime Minister
Curtin in Canberra in a few days.’ Sutherland’s lips widened in a
guarded grin. ‘You’ve been getting a lot of ink in the Australian
newspapers in the last few days, sir, and it’s certainly lifted the
morale of the Australian public.’
‘And their expectations, I suppose.’
MacArthur said without much enthusiasm. ‘You know as well as I do,
this command will just turn into another Philippines if we don’t
get men and equipment here before it’s too late to fight back.’
Deeply troubled by the grim situation in
Australia, MacArthur took leave of Sutherland and his senior
officers and returned to his family’s quarters to ponder the
situation and to try and get some rest. After lying awake for
several hours in a small, uncomfortable bunk, MacArthur got up, put
on a pair of pants and a silk smoking-jacket and began pacing the
dimly-lit corridors of the train as it thundered through the night
towards Adelaide.
There were just three carriages on the train.
Two were set aside for the general’s family and his military
entourage which had been swollen considerably at Alice Springs.
Everyone was sleeping as MacArthur made his way through the
carriages. When he reached the last one, a US Army Military
Policeman stood on guard at the door. At first, in the half-light,
the soldier didn’t recognize the tall man in the smoking-jacket and
he barred the way. But when he realized it was MacArthur, the MP
snapped to attention and saluted smartly.
‘What are you doing here, Soldier?’ MacArthur
asked. ‘Who’s in there?’
‘There’s some Allied officers and enlisted
men and a few civilians, sir,’ the MP said, staring straight ahead.
‘They’re not part of your official party, sir. They’re just tagging
a ride south. I was told to make sure they are confined to this
car.’
‘At ease, Soldier.’ MacArthur said and passed
through into the carriage.
It was even darker inside the last carriage
than in the others. As MacArthur walked down the corridor he saw
the forms of a few servicemen stretched out and sleeping on seats
in the compartments. At the end of the corridor he was about to
turn around and begin walking back when he saw an American officer
standing at a window looking out into the night. Outside, the
rugged South Australia landscape was silhouetted by bright
moonlight. In the reflection of the moon glow on the window,
MacArthur saw the insignia of a captain on the officer’s shirt.
‘
Can’t you sleep, son?’ MacArthur said
from the shadows.
‘
No.’ The captain half turned his head
towards MacArthur and seeing the silk smoking-jacket assumed the
question had come from a civilian. ‘It’s so damn hot in the
compartments, I came out to try and get a little air.’
‘Strange-looking country out there, isn’t
it?’ MacArthur said as the officer resumed staring out of the
window.’
‘Not so strange if you come from the
south-western United States. This country looks pretty much like
parts of Arizona or New Mexico to me.’
‘Is that where you’re from, Captain?’
‘The captain nodded his head. ‘I was born in
the Carrizo Mountains in north-western New Mexico, but I live in
Gallup now.’
‘I know that country well, son. I’ve been
there many times.’ MacArthur said. ‘I lived on Army posts in New
Mexico as a young boy. My father was a soldier in the Union Army.
After the Civil War he had a command in the south-west during the
Indian campaigns. He saw that whole region settled as a Navajo
Indian reservation.’
The captain turned from the window. ‘What was
your father’s name?’
‘Colonel Arthur MacArthur.’
‘Sir.’ The captain quickly stood to attention
and saluted. Any doubt about the identity of the tall man in the
smoking-jacket was dispelled when MacArthur took a step forward
into the dim light. ‘I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t realize…’
‘As you were, Captain.’ MacArthur returned
the salute. ‘I see you are wearing the uniform of the Army Air
Corps. What’s your name?’
‘Rivers, sir, Captain Dan Rivers.’
‘How did you come to be in Australia,
son?’
‘I was stationed at Clark Field when the Japs
hit in the Philippines. I came to Darwin aboard one of the B-17’s
we managed to salvage. I’m going south now to help organize
facilities for assembling P-40’s coming in from the States.’
‘Assemble them? Don’t you prefer to fly
them?’
‘Yes, but I’m also an engineer, sir. I joined
the service to get my degree through the military.’
‘Damn good way to get an education, son. I
was commissioned as a second-lieutenant of engineers at West
Point.’ MacArthur smiled at the recollection. ‘What did you plan to
do before this war came along?’
‘I wanted to build good roads and decent
housing for my people all across the south-west, sir. They
supported me while I was away at military school getting an
education.’
‘You said you were born in the Carrizo
Mountains, Captain.’ MacArthur stepped closer so he could see Dan’s
face more clearly. After a few moments he said, ‘You’re an Indian,
aren’t you, son?’
‘Yes sir, I’m a Navajo.’
MacArthur smiled again and said, ‘My father
would have been glad if he could have seen all Americans fighting
on the same side this time.’
Faraway
spent a
week at Croker Island, hidden away in a channel deep in the
mangroves more than a mile away from the mission. At low tide the
channel emptied, leaving the ketch high and dry, but in the dense
foliage that surrounded her she was almost impossible to see, even
from the air.
Every morning a Japanese reconnaissance
aircraft flew over the island. Often it appeared as if from
nowhere, diving silently from high altitude with its engine cut,
restarting it just a few hundred feet above the ground, then
roaring at tree-top level over the mission. Sometimes the pilot
even grinned and waved to any of the islanders who hadn’t been
quick enough to get under cover. The missionaries told Joe that the
plane had only strafed the island once, when an aircraft from the
mainland had been parked on the airstrip. But every time the plane
flew over the island Joe was afraid the pilot would spot
Faraway
.
Although Croker Island was home to
Sunday and Monday, they asked to sail on to the Roper River and Joe
agreed, happy to have a full crew for the long voyage.
Faraway
finally set sail early one
morning with fourteen girls between ten and sixteen years old on
board. Also aboard was a large quantity of provisions supplied by
the mission, mainly salted meat, vegetables and tinned food, but
there was also freshly baked bread, and a variety of fruit. The
missionaries had also made arrangements on the radio network for
more food to be taken on at the Elcho Island mission, over two
hundred miles to the east.
Joe took his time sailing east along
the Top End coast. He knew that with nineteen people crammed onto a
small vessel, without privacy or proper facilities, the voyage
could soon become a very difficult passage. So he stuck to his plan
to only sail in daylight and used his intimate knowledge of the
desolate and featureless Arnhem Land coast to rock-hop between
mainland and island anchorages. With generally light breezes, which
often disappeared for hours on end, and anxious to conserve
fuel,
Faraway
rarely made more
than thirty miles a day.
They reached Elcho Island without incident
and without sighting any other vessels. Koko spotted two aircraft
along the way, but both were so high in the sky no one could tell
if they were Allied or Japanese. The missionaries on Elcho told
them the Japanese had bombed Broome in Western Australia with great
loss of life and the destruction of over twenty Allied aircraft.
Most were Dutch Air Force flying boats, blown to smithereens as
they lay at anchor on Roebuck Bay, only hours after bringing
evacuees in from the Netherlands East Indies.
Joe expected Koko to remain on the
island. The mission superintendent and his wife, who had refused to
be evacuated aboard the
Larrpan
a week earlier, knew Koko well and they pleaded with him to
stay. But Koko was gradually coming to terms with his grief and his
situation and, although undecided what he would do in the end,
chose for the time being to stay aboard
Faraway.
Two days out from Elcho Island,
Faraway
arrived in the Gulf of
Carpentaria under clear skies and blustery winds. Now, with the
greater part of the voyage behind her she charged southward with a
freshening north-easterly wind filling her sails and leaving a
boiling wake astern. With the strong favorable wind, Joe hoped to
cover the last three hundred miles to the Roper River and hand his
charges over to the waiting missionaries before there was a change
in the weather.
The strong north-easterly held. Three
days later,
Faraway
had
covered over two hundred miles and was safely anchored at Bickerton
Island, seven miles off the eastern Arnhem Land coast. Groote
Eylandt was clearly visible about the same distance further out in
the Gulf. With only seventy miles remaining, Joe planned to leave
the anchorage at dawn and try and reach the mouth of the Roper
River before dark.
The dawn brought a patchy, cloudy sky
but the wind still hummed in the rigging. Outside the sheltered
anchorage, whitecaps were beginning to form and the seas were
building. Joe told Sunday and Monday to cram on as much sail as
they could and
Faraway
was
soon making a steady eight knots through flying spray. Everyone was
in high spirits.
Around mid-morning everybody got a scare when
a large aircraft appeared over the bow. It was flying at very low
altitude and directly towards them. Joe shouted to everyone on
deck, telling them to take cover below and there was a mad scramble
down the companionway. But Joe’s fears were allayed when he
recognized the aircraft as a Catalina flying boat and saw RAAF
markings on its fuselage, and he assumed it was preparing to set
down at the aircraft refueling depot at Groote Eyelandt. As the
Catalina thundered by overhead Joe waved and the pilot dipped a
wing.