War Letters – NW Australia: 21 July 1943, Darwin; Bush races at a military camp down the road

C/O DPR Unit
Darwin

Wednesday night
[21 Jul 1943]

Dear Jesso,

I haven’t been staying at the palatial residence of press fraternity for 3 days. At present situated at a spot about as far as Camden.  The weather still holds its perfection although away from the coast the nights are considerably cooler.  Poor Willie having brought only 1 blanket inevitably wakes during early morning & spends the remainder of the night between a spit and a shiver.

First day out I stayed at a big shot camp & dined in the big shots’ mess1Most likely the 12 Div NT Force HQ at 57 Mile Camp. Here Wep would have seen the HQ of the Royal Australia Engineers 12 Div Northern Territory Force and sketched bulldozers practising bridge building in New Guinea, which appeared in The Australian Women’s Weekly, June 10, 1944, p41..

The Royal Australian Engineers HQ was situated at 57 mile camp along with 12 Div NT Force HQ at the time of Wep’s visit. Here they were practising bridge building in preparation for New Guinea.

The food was very good – much better cooked than at above – this is to be expected I guess.  Cook would have to be on his toes (i.e. as far as is possible when cooking under the conditions here).  There’s plenty of good grub but it is all hash house cooked except the potatoes which are invariably damned good.  Tomatoes too are available, as most of the camps irrigate the plants with the waste from showers.  Saw two cabbages grown here, one was 20 lbs & the other 23 lbs in weight. – some cabbage!  Telegraph correspondent Bill Moore is a keen tomatoeer – more power to his soul!  Moreover we had asparagus sandwiches for supper!  That may be nothing in your sweet mouth – it wasn’t much in mine either, I was too darn polite to hog ‘em.  Raisin puddin’ is another standing dish up here.  My bowels & appetite can’t cope with the supply of edibles as yet.

After spending two nights at the abovementioned camp (sh-h-h!) I was transported hither2Believed to be Adelaide River Camp – Here all is livelier.  The restraint subconsciously imposed on everyone by the presence of a plus senior officer is gone – Another fundamental difference is that this is one of the few NSW crowds about locally.  They seem much more companionable.  All the officers in this mess are motor men the majority from Sydney.  The C.O.’s face is familiar.  I think we may have seen him at the Auto Club.  Another officer said he had seen one there.  Asked if I knew Ron Gill3Ronald Edward (Ron) Gill, was a motor car salesman from Sydney and was formerly engaged to Jess prior to her meeting Wep..  Said Ron had a very bad attack of malaria & has been in & out of hospital for some eight months.

Am making sketches of the local race track recently cut out of the bush by the army forces4The Northern Picnic Races (later Adelaide River Races) were first run in December 1941 and are held annually at the ARSS Showgrounds in the beginning of the dry season. Originally commenced as a rest and recreation event for Australian troops stationed there during the Second World War, the event has increased in size and popularity each year..  By Christ it’s a surprisingly good little course.  A creek covered with water lilies flows round the edge of the paddock & official stand.  A pleasant spot covered with pandana palms is set aside for the horses, jockeys & form gazers.  The nags are brought in form the neighbouring stations and auctioned to whoever wishes to buy. The proceeds from the sales are put into prize money.  At the last meeting stakes were £1,500!

No change given here, The Australian Women’s Weekly, 15 Jan 1944, cover
No change given here
The official box

There is a big tote – 3 stands for the hoi polloi – the flat contains a football field.  The course is half a mile.  A commentator’s stand is behind the winning post.  Judges’ box and result board just like Randwick.  It’s bloody staggering.  I believe the sight of the north, is the numbers of two up games being played on the flat.  About 50 schools at one time.  And the thousands of bottles of LOLLY WATER emptied down the parched army throats.  It is reputed to be impossible to step between them.

28

This afternoon I emerged as a both a public entertainer & benefactor.  I appeared as the only live artist left in the territory.  I sat & worked before the bewildered gaze of at least 40 taken in relays of about 5 at a time.  Strangely enough I have found that when these things become unavoidable I could settle down a bit.  Not much though. Obviously I will get accustomed to it.

There is a magnificent canteen run by the publican of that new pub set back from the footpath on Botany Rd at Mascot.  Pub on the right on the way out to Brighton.  Dozens of tins of asparagus – plenty cigs, tobacco, Minties, Chocolate and god knows what.

Saw another picture the other night.  Accepted troop behaviour is after standing to God Save the King (with picture of George VI) and Star Spangled Banner (pictures of McArthur & Roosevelt) the troops in a body scream out – “What about Joe?”  “Give us Joe” Whee – i.e!  “In which we Serve” is to be shown here next week – So you may as well see it at home.  A sketch for you, my darling see below – and attached thereto.

All the messes in the bush are built bush carpentry fashion – walls consisting of bark slabs – or more elegantly of the slender & decorative poles of the palms which grow in profusion around here.

This sort of

Trunks about 3” diam.

Or else bark thatched roofs with bamboo strip wall lining – looks very well.  The country is much the same as down south.  Tropics are suggested by the brilliant green & luscious leaves of some of the gums & these are all small & at times with the sun light streaming through take on the appearance a an apple orchard is climes more mellow.  Hawks in their hundreds look like black paper litter blown about in the wind.  Their incessant curling & dipping is reminiscent of what I should imagine a plane battle to be.  When far away they can be mistaken for the spits.  That is, to my poor old enfeebled vision.

The talk of women is incessant.  It’s quite easy to understand.  When I stop working I miss you in large bundles.  Fellows after 12 months of this become quite obsessed.  Lots of love my dear – am looking forward to seeing you – I haven’t settled down yet – am still restless – in too much of a hurry to get something done – I know that with a little more resignation & detachment I could do  quite well – hope to Christ it soon arrives.

How’s Pop5Jess’s father, George Alexander Graham (1864-1945)?  Haven’t had a letter yet but expect to get one on my return to D.  I keep wanting to go back – hearing from you will be bloody good.  Good luck, honey.  Give me some nice thinks.

Love

Bill

Holding yards, Darwin race course
Racecourse Grandstand
Racecourse Grandstand
Judge’s box
Bike Race
No change given here

 

Notes:

  • 1
    Most likely the 12 Div NT Force HQ at 57 Mile Camp. Here Wep would have seen the HQ of the Royal Australia Engineers 12 Div Northern Territory Force and sketched bulldozers practising bridge building in New Guinea, which appeared in The Australian Women’s Weekly, June 10, 1944, p41.
  • 2
    Believed to be Adelaide River Camp
  • 3
    Ronald Edward (Ron) Gill, was a motor car salesman from Sydney and was formerly engaged to Jess prior to her meeting Wep.
  • 4
    The Northern Picnic Races (later Adelaide River Races) were first run in December 1941 and are held annually at the ARSS Showgrounds in the beginning of the dry season. Originally commenced as a rest and recreation event for Australian troops stationed there during the Second World War, the event has increased in size and popularity each year.
  • 5
    Jess’s father, George Alexander Graham (1864-1945)

War Letters – NW Australia: 18 July 1943, Darwin; Swimming, painting and a Japanese plane shot down

Sunday
[18 Jul 1943]

Dear Jess,

A short note cos little Willie is a weeny bit tired – the boys & all their soldier helps had a picnic today out on one of the beaches about 12 miles from here.  Altogether about 13 of us went & bathed in the Timor Sea (which was regularly calm) without any clothes on!  This is neither here nor there as from the main streets here you can see soldiers having showers in unenclosed shower stands.  They just put up a spray on the end of a water pipe, place a piece of Hessian on one side & go ahead.

Camp shower, Darwin

All the fellows in this town – or in the whole territory – for that matter are a marvellous colour.  A rich brick red.  Few are that yellow brown colour as most wear nothing but shorts & boots & socks during the day.  As the sun is very hot they are continually being burnt.  I am at present a nice shade of lolly pink.  While I mention that, I may as well tell you that apart from a bottle of beer a week the troops can buy an un-carbonated cordial. They call it lolly-water & that’s just what it damned well is.  The abos are still cycling around. They look like a cavalry spider corps.

So     –> 

On the way back from the beach we bathed in a fresh water pool constructed on the head reaches of a creek.  It is a very lovely spot surrounded by pandana palms through which the sun filters & makes splendid patterns.  The pool is deep & about 20 yds long – The water much colder than that of the sea which is almost tepid.

Air Force Pool, Darwin  [A makeshift pool constructed at the head of Rapid Creek on the RAAF Airfield was used by troops and airforce men stationed at the airfield. See also AWM 134006]
The weather is really marvellous  – you would love it darling it’s right up your alley.  A couple of Jap planes arrived over today about 40 miles away.  One was shot down – I didn’t see or hear anything of them.1Mitsubishi Ki-46 “Dinah” #2414, wreck located south of Point Stuart, NT [ Historic Aircraft Wreck Sites; Heritage Assessment Report Compiled by Heritage Branch Department of Tourism & Culture May 2017. (2023, July 17). Retrieved from https://tfhc.nt.gov.au/__data/assets/pdf_file/0016/1216420/nt-historic-aircraft-wreck-sites-assessment-report.pdf ]
See also
Dunn, P. 2015; Crash of a Japanese ‘Dinah’, on Opium Creek Station, Northern Territory about 100 kms east of Darwin on 18 July 1943. (2023, July 17). Retrieved from https://www.ozatwar.com/ozcrashes/nt171.htm
And
Pacific Wrecks, Ki-46-II Dinah Manufacture Number 2414. (2023, July 17). Retrieved from https://pacificwrecks.com/aircraft/ki-46/2414.html

Tomorrow I’m going down the road to stay at some of the camps for a while.  Next letter you receive from me will be written in a different setting and may be just a little late.

Locally the train to Adelaide is facetiously known as the “Spirit of Protest”.  Have been drawing some of the lads tonight – they were well received.

On our return from the picnic we sat down to dinner prepared by one of the drivers (2 cars & 1 truck are attached to the unit here).  Cookie had gone with us for a day off.  Taking advantage of his solitude in the kitchen, driver set to & sent up a voluminous 4 course meal.  Soup – macaroni & cheese & tomato – roast beef, etc peaches & cream & some sort of cocoa jelly.  Topped off with welsh rarebit.  I had thought him a bit simple.  He must have been to sweat like that.  Maybe he has my occasional enthusiasm. It’s easy to get that way when does have to do it often.

I find it hard to settle down to a letter – too many typewriters banging – too much talk.  Perhaps I shall do better down the road.  I think I shall also ask the major who works in the house next door for the use of one of his empty rooms – Christ I need it in order to get away from this noise if & when I work.

All my love petty & please look after yourself. I miss you

Bill.

Notes:

  • 1
    Mitsubishi Ki-46 “Dinah” #2414, wreck located south of Point Stuart, NT [ Historic Aircraft Wreck Sites; Heritage Assessment Report Compiled by Heritage Branch Department of Tourism & Culture May 2017. (2023, July 17). Retrieved from https://tfhc.nt.gov.au/__data/assets/pdf_file/0016/1216420/nt-historic-aircraft-wreck-sites-assessment-report.pdf ]
    See also
    Dunn, P. 2015; Crash of a Japanese ‘Dinah’, on Opium Creek Station, Northern Territory about 100 kms east of Darwin on 18 July 1943. (2023, July 17). Retrieved from https://www.ozatwar.com/ozcrashes/nt171.htm
    And
    Pacific Wrecks, Ki-46-II Dinah Manufacture Number 2414. (2023, July 17). Retrieved from https://pacificwrecks.com/aircraft/ki-46/2414.html

War Letters – NW Australia: 17 July 1943, Darwin; Visiting camps down the road

W.E. Pidgeon
C/O DPR
Army Post Office

Darwin
Saturday
[17 July 1943]

Dear Jess,

How’s things with my little wifie?  I hope things are still alright with the old man and that mum is keeping well.  Went down the road again yesterday & met all the blokes that matter.1A pay parade and Australian Comforts Fund issue was conducted at Headquarters, No. 14 Lines of Communication, Sub Area at Noonamah on July 16, 1943  At one camp where we were eating with the majors & colonels. I was more than surprised to see Major Bill Stanner2Bill Stanner was an associate and friend of Bill and Jess from the early days of their courtship. William Edward Hanley Stanner was a sub-editor for the Daily Guardian in 1927 at the time Wep worked for the Guardian and was made chief sub-editor for the Sunday Sun in 1932 when it absorbed the Sunday Guardian. He may have also been a member of the Millions Club as Wep referred to him asking Jess to thank him in a letter sent to her when she travelled with the club on a skiing tour to the Snowy Mountains in August 1931. From 1932 Stanner spent significant time in the Northern Territory and following Japan’s entry into the war, he proposed the formation of a bush commando unit. In May 1942 he was appointed as a temporary major, Citizen Military Forces (Australian Imperial Force from August), and in June was placed in command of the North Australia Observer Unit (‘the Nackeroos’), a position he held till October 1943, shortly after Wep returned to Sydney.  See also D. J. Mulvaney, ‘Stanner, William Edward (Bill) (1905–1981)‘, Australian Dictionary of Biography, National Centre of Biography, Australian National University, https://adb.anu.edu.au/biography/stanner-william-edward-bill-15541/text26753, published first in hardcopy 2012, accessed online 15 July 2023. walk in.  He had just a half hour before turned his car over & was still in a bit of a daze.  His knowledge of the area is apparently being put to good use by the army.  At another place we had the rare pleasure of drinking a very fine Scotch whiskey called “Mountain Cream” watered down with genuine French Vichy water such as I haven’t seen for years.  Our major in this mess & I imbibed somewhat heartily I’m afraid.  The colonel who treated us was a hell of a nice chap & most interested in art.  He was a wealthy business man and spends quite a lot of cash collecting pictures.  All the better known English artists’ work is represented in his collection.  After leaving that camp we went on further & had tea with another unit.  The Major there got us stuck into the port.  Our Major & I were goodo by the time we left.  It’s a rare blessing to have a driver.  We went to sleep and left him to it.  Took about 2 ½ hours to get back3Possibly travelled as far as 58-Mile Camp.  I’m not too hot today my love.

On Monday I will be off to live in a camp for a few days.  It is practically impossible to do any painting from here as a base.  All the boys are diligently writing their wives.  No work today.  I’m finding it hard to think.  Typewriters are clacking all over the bloody house.  Haven’t seen any ‘orrid crocodiles yet although they say there are some about.  Boy!  Little Willie is sure going to see he comes home with the same gruff voice!  No choir boy tones for me.  Not that it would matter much up here – life is extremely celibate.  Everything is still quiet on the front – thank God.  The boys reckon this is the toughest front line in the world.  We intrepid correspondents are pigging it with ice boxes and wireless sets, grog & plenty tobacco.  Next door is a Presbyterian mission house.  An adult aborigine & child are staying there at the moment.  The man rides round on a kid’s tricycle all day long & at night lights a fire (of all things!).  The two of them sit round it & give off.  Raucous native chants shatter the air.  I think the nig. is initiating the nipper into the tribal rites.  Terrible primitive up on this front.

Am looking forward to hearing from you darling.  Don’t suppose I’ll get anything for some time yet as even air mail takes a damned long time to come through.

Lots of love, honey

From poor Fred.

Notes:

  • 1
    A pay parade and Australian Comforts Fund issue was conducted at Headquarters, No. 14 Lines of Communication, Sub Area at Noonamah on July 16, 1943
  • 2
    Bill Stanner was an associate and friend of Bill and Jess from the early days of their courtship. William Edward Hanley Stanner was a sub-editor for the Daily Guardian in 1927 at the time Wep worked for the Guardian and was made chief sub-editor for the Sunday Sun in 1932 when it absorbed the Sunday Guardian. He may have also been a member of the Millions Club as Wep referred to him asking Jess to thank him in a letter sent to her when she travelled with the club on a skiing tour to the Snowy Mountains in August 1931. From 1932 Stanner spent significant time in the Northern Territory and following Japan’s entry into the war, he proposed the formation of a bush commando unit. In May 1942 he was appointed as a temporary major, Citizen Military Forces (Australian Imperial Force from August), and in June was placed in command of the North Australia Observer Unit (‘the Nackeroos’), a position he held till October 1943, shortly after Wep returned to Sydney.  See also D. J. Mulvaney, ‘Stanner, William Edward (Bill) (1905–1981)‘, Australian Dictionary of Biography, National Centre of Biography, Australian National University, https://adb.anu.edu.au/biography/stanner-william-edward-bill-15541/text26753, published first in hardcopy 2012, accessed online 15 July 2023.
  • 3
    Possibly travelled as far as 58-Mile Camp

War Letters – NW Australia: 15 July 1943, Darwin; 2/11 Australian Army Field Regimental Beach Carnival

W.E. Pidgeon
C/O DPR
Army Post Office

Darwin
[15 Jul 1943]

Dear Jess,

Or should I say darling?  This is the first time I have been alone in this house.  Until 11 pm typewriters & dopes clack out their stuff and I cannot settle down to think of you and myself to the exclusion of everyone else.

God, darling, if you and I had a house to ourselves (and heavens know there are many empty) we would have a time such as only those days in the trailer gave us1Reference to Wep and Jess’s six month caravan trip in 1937.  Tonight for some reason one of the permanent lieutenants asked me to accompany him for a drink.  He & his & our understrapping sergeant enlisted more or less together in 1940 and they have a fellow feeling or pact to get stinking at least once a week together.  Tonight they asked me to accompany them.  This of course all under the lap as far as this end is concerned as officers & sergeants just don’t drink together.  Be that as it may it was my privilege (and I take it as such) to have been the only one asked to drink with them.  From what I can gather they really hate the guts of the fellow correspondents!  Any goodwill I seem to have gathered is because I still can mix with people of the lowlier orders without being the perfect quince &/or pounce, or ponce or (blast it you know what I mean!).

There is so much to tell you honey.  I can’t fit it all in these rapid scribblings.  The pages left unsaid in which I could say how much I would like you to be here are legion.  I went to the pictures again tonight & saw “Johnny Eager”.  Robert Taylor & Lana Turner.  God only knows why they insist on showing pictures in which the dames crawl all over the man’s body.  Not very helpful to the troops.  Got home about 10.30.  (Harold Dick took us in his car by the way.)  Had a couple of gins on return & then went out with this chappy and polished off (amongst us) some port & sherry.  Returned about 1.  Strangely enough I felt very restless & a bit sick.  I tried to get to bed – lay there ½ hour, decided to put the old finger down the throat & write you.  Not since Thursday previous to my leaving have I had so much to drink.  (Special note – The mosquitoes are really  eating me alive.  When I say that it’s no foolin!)  Everyone is asleep and its nice and peaceful and I feel as if I love you with the affection of a thousand Willies in the month of July 1932.  Look after yourself, pettie.

Went for a swim today.  The water was wonderful.  The whole setup was much the same as we had at George Warnecke’s place at Ettalong.  The weather is the same & the surroundings fairly similar.

Tomorrow I am going on the road again.  Always it is about as far as Mittagong to get anywhere.  And the dust is colossical.  I’m getting an occupational disease – you could almost call it potters lungs – there is so much clay about.

Have spent the day on the beach watching a regimental anniversary picnic.  Quite a GOOD SHOW marred only by the untimely death of the pig for the greasy pig race.  Poor bastard snuffed it about 2 hours before it was due to appear in the race!

Bike Race; 2/11 Aust. Army Field Regiment Third Anniversary Beach Carnival, Mindil Beach
Watching 880 Yards Race; Third Anniversary Beach Carnival, Mindil Beach, Thursday, 15 July, 1943
Low tide 10.30 Thursday; Third Anniversary Beach Carnival, Mindil Beach, Thursday, 15 July, 1943

This really is a wonderful winter climate – you’d go nuts about it.  The town is full of slick & well conditioned brown gods – not that you’d notice them!  The only soft bodies here are senior officers & war correspondents.  Am getting sunburnt.  Lolly pink – that’s about my status at the moment.  Shall meet fluttery eyed Gloria – from the Officer’s husband, F/O Newton when I get down to Caldwell’s Spitfire Squadron.

Guess I should go to bed.
Send me a little kiss in your letter.
Love from Winnie the Poo

P.S. (Something out the back stinks something dreadful!)

Wep’s plan view of the War Correspondents Mess, Darwin, July 1943

Notes:

War Letters – NW Australia: 14 July 1943, Darwin; First impressions of life amongst the press corps

W.E. Pidgeon
DPR Unit
Army Post Office
Darwin

Wednesday night
[14 July 1943]

Dear Jess,

Arrived here after a very long & rather exhausting trip which seemed to last for days.  Most of it was spent sprawled precariously over piles of sharp edged boxes and bloody hard crates of gear for some of the posts.  We left early Monday morning long before the roosters started their daily work.  I am somewhat vague as to the cans and cannots of communications.  All mail is censored.

Although I had no idea of what to expect in the way of habitation and country around here – none of it is even remotely like my nebulous preconceived notions.  Trees are laid on with lavish profusion & colour.  The climate is really balmy.  Typical summer days with mild & temperate nights which are really perfection at the moment.  Booful big moon plenty of stars & gentle Dotty Lamour breezes.  Everybody says it’s just perfect weather for the little yellow men to make a raid.  I’ve got my tin hat ready & the receptive trench eyed off.  Surprisingly enough there does not seem to have been much damage done – that is from what is visible now.  They do say as ‘ow they ‘ave cleaned it all up like.  Noticed a few big holes you could put half a house in but no one seems to have bothered to do so.  All so much useless spade work on the part of the nips.  Ninety-nine & then some percent of the houses (of which there are quite a lot) are made of fibro.  These are now nicely aired – cellstexed with irregular holes of varying shapes and sizes.

War Correspondents’ Mess, Darwin; July 1943. View looking east from the main street.
War Correspondents’ Mess, Darwin; July 1943. View looking northeast from the main street.

I was sure staggered to see my present living quarters.  A tin hut or hessian hut with rude bush carpentered beds and furniture was my dream.  Imagine my dismay in having to pig it in a two storied airy fibro cottage of very recent vintage and extremely pleasant design.  A large right angled room twice as big as our lounge occupies the centre of the building & from off lead a kitchenette, a tiled bathroom with shower recess & W.C. & 5 bedrooms.  It is all extremely airy – half of the walls are built on a pattern of venetian blinds – you may open or close them as is necessary.  About 11 of us sit down to meals – or to mess as is said.  The major of public relations sits at the head.  The good little boys are ranged down either side.  Food is pretty good – a new whole ham provided last night with tomatoes, lettuce and cucumber.  Sherry before dinner.  Australian whiskey on arrival & beer late last night.  It is hardly necessary to add that this grog was in moderate doses.  The ration is one bottle of beer a week.  I haven’t yet found out about the other alcohols.

Trotted off to an open air picture show last night – you take your own seat.    This is no trouble as 2 cars & 1 truck are at the disposal of the poor correspondents.

Believed to be the mobile concert stage of the 3rd Australian Division Concert Party held July 13, 1943 at Noonamar, NT. for the troops of No. 14 Lines of Communication Sub Area and RAAF Squadron

A team of American entertainers provided the first half of the show – they were really excellent.  Hard lines for the local lads that they were all men.  It is reported that down south 8 glamour girls were on the show too but higher ups decided such a show of limbs & breast might set in a rot among the troops, most of whom haven’t seen a dame for at least 6 months.  Comments when women appear on the screen are a trifle ribald.  I suppose real tarts would render them speechless.  It’s a rare sight to see the dags yelling out for Myrna Loy to hurry up & die (in the picture “The Rains Came”).

The distances between the various camps in this area are staggering.  I’ve been all day in a blasted car & seen about a dozen.  Christ only knows how I’m going to get around to the time needed to paint If I have to spend most of the day riding to & from the bloody joints.  I haven’t started yet.  It’ll take me a week to find the lay of the land.  It’s plenty hot.  Address your reply to W.E. Pidgeon – if you add a Mr. It will cost you 1 ½ d extra.  Airmail comes to me otherwise for 4d. Let me hear from you soon – am beginning to miss you – There’s no privacy & I don’t care much for a couple of these blokes.  Lots of love to you my sweetie-pie.

Heh-heh – love from

Bill.

[The actual location of the Correspondents Mess remains to be confirmed. However based on Wep’s sketches and other views as well as RAAF aerial photography of 19 May 1945,1Australian Institute of Cartographers Northern Territory Division & Alford, R. N. ([199-]). Darwin – WWII RAAF aerial photography Saturday 19th of May 1945 it is possible that the War Correspondent’s Mess was situated on the eastern side of the present-day Stuart Highway near the corner of Queen Street (No. 34 Stuart Highway, Stuart Park, NT)]

Notes:

War Letters – NW Australia: 12 July 1943, Brisbane; Reflections

[c.12 July 1943, Brisbane – Whilst awaiting transfer to Darwin, Wep wrote five pages reflecting upon the circumstances that led to him being in Brisbane; from the moment Alice Jackson, editor of The Australian Women’s Weekly, rang his home a week earlier to summon him in to the office. His latest cover celebrating American Independence Day had just been published. It was not written as a letter to Jess, and had no apparent ending.]

Independence Day 1943, Wep, The Australian Women’s Weekly, July 3, 1943, Cover

I was angrily unhappy. The phone rang and my wife said it was the office calling. I was suddenly sadly unhappy. From here where doing something I don’t like, to something I positively hated. Editors are alright in their time and place, like doctors, and that is not on a cold and astrologically unfavourable morning when one is feeling unhappy, even angrily.

So I’m wanted in the office and I haven’t shaved or eaten or even got over getting out of the wrong side of the bed. And then of course I miss the boat1Northwood ferry because the two minutes time our clock is always short of. The forty minutes later would, as fate inexorably will it, be proudly ferrying the mother of one of those wretched infant prodigies of art. A rowing boat would be a sound investment – slow – but soulful.

I come out of the trance to hear the editor saying it seems – yes, and we’re sending you to Darwin for a couple of hours to do a complete compilation of life in the far north. Can you get away by yesterday?

“Oh, yes, yes,” I promise the world but secretly reckon that for the Northern Territory only, I can hedge a bit on the vows.

For a week it’s all very vague and hurried, a few recollections come to light of a tailor saying H’m well make your suit inside out – of photographs which look like a balded Arnold Haskell – of an energetic sweat despite the cold – and some more photos for the office which will come in handy for the obituary if the plane falls to pieces in mid air.

Wep in his War Correspondent’s uniform

About 12 midday after packing effects, personal and impersonal, I find I’m responsible for a huge weight and a most imposing bulk of gear which will probably never be used. At 2 am it’s down to only 40 lbs overweight; i.e. allowing for 40 lbs of clothing – razor, teeth, wig, etc. – The 40 lbs over represents false nose, paints, easel, canvas, paper, and all those oddly dirty things which artists use. The problem is whether sacrifice the paints or go quite naked. This one is, at 2am, quite easy, that is the pigeon of the office.

And in no time at all I’m in Brisbane. Diplomatic courtesy forbids me mention this noble duty except in so far as to mention that it is situate the south eastern corner of Queensland and has most salubrious and invigorating climate as well as women of presentable appearance and engaging manners.

I sleep in American quarters, I eat with Americans – I see pictures with Americans. I dream about Americans. I get blood taken out of me by Australians at the gentle suburb of Greenslopes and I’m told I have never had malaria. It would be something of a miracle if I had – but then it is just one of those things that science likes to prove you haven’t got. Caught a taxi back – holy heavens, what a price! Could scarcely have charged the newest boy from Oklahoma more. However the office paid up with good grace.

And so to the sleepless cot swaying amongst the sighings, the yowlings, the dropping of boots, the cleaning of teeth, the pulling of chairs, the washings of faces, the gurglings of throats, the coming ins and going offs of American airmen on service leave. No need for the night porter to call me at 3.30 a.m.. I’m looking at the City Hall clock and trying to work out what’s going on in the air raid shelter just opposite.

Doughnuts and coffee thanks to the American Red Cross.

Notes:

  • 1
    Northwood ferry

War Letters – NW Australia: 11 July 1943, Brisbane; Socialising

Oxford House
Brisbane
Sunday 8.30 am

[11 July 1943]

I haven’t had malaria! – now aint  that a surprise to us all!

I’m leasing a monk like existence – Friday night after finding my kitbag I went to the pictures & saw “The Moon & Sixpence”.  It wasn’t much chop.  Saturday morning after returning from the hospital which was out along the road to that trailer camp we parked at five years ago I went with the boys to a pub and amazingly managed to get about six beers down before the drought set in.

Met another correspondent who had my phone number and a note from me in my own writing in his note book.  Neither he nor I have the faintest idea what it was about.  We had met him at the Royal Standard last year.  A civilian turned up who knew him – we were introduced & he said ‘not Bill Pidgeon?”.  “But yes” I say.  “Married a girl from the P.D.S.”  “U-huh” = me.  “Well” sez he “I’m Roy West, you and Jess had a drink with Jean Smith & I at the Great Southern just before we got married.”  What a teeny-weeny little world!  He and Jean have amicably parted.

Left him and went round to the Gresham hotel for dinner, in the midst of which a croaking voice hails me from behind & none other than dear old debtor Francis Clancy beams upon my shaken face.  “Christ, can’t I ever get away from you” I ask.  However he was sober and didn’t worry me.  Said he would ring this morning – but I won’t be here.  Am going down to have a look at what the boys call the press circus, i.e. G.H.Q. conference & handout.

Caricature study on Gresham Hall, Brisbane note paper, July 11, 1943

I rang Eager but couldn’t contact him – he is away at his stud farm doesn’t return until tonight.

The food in this joint is very good.  The Yanks see to it that their bellies are well looked after.  According to the local correspondents they look after their John Thomases too with loving care & affection – see to it that they are never starved.

Went to bed at 8.30 pm last night.  Am getting sick of walking round the blocks!

Tell King I have met a lot of the boys.

Hugh Dash       –           Brammal
Lloyd Clarke   –           Hutton
Jack Brairs (?) –          Peterson
Mishael             –           Fitzhenry

Brisbane full of correspondents.  English Australian American.  I haven’t met Williams yet.

War Letters – NW Australia: 10 July 1943, Brisbane; Awaiting malaria test

“Everybody gapes at my green armbands”

Brisbane
Sat.
[10 July 1943]

Dear Jesso,

Poor little Willie

Is sitting alone

I’m out at a military hospital waiting for results of a malaria test.  Everyone going north has to have a Malaria free certificate.

Arrived here at 1.15 after a pleasant trip.  When we got to ANA office in Brisbane I left my gear & reported to the Public Relations people where I had to get a further pass & have arrangements made for transport further on.  So far as I know I’m leaving Monday.

Contacted Hughie Dash, Telegraph representative here.  He took me round, got me accommodation at a PRIVATE hotel.  When I returned to pick up the luggage – the blasted kit bag was missing.  One of the girls seemed to think it a great joke that she had seen a soldier take it out.  Christ! Was I mortified!  Panic swept over me like a steamroller.  Your heart would have bled for me.  The manager was a little more civilized & suggested it may have been picked up by mistake.  So he started ringing all the military folk who were on the plane.  None of them had it.  At 6.30 pm I staggered down to the Police & reported.  Tottered back to the ANA & at 7 pm the bloody thing turned up!  A RAAF driver had taken it in mistake.  I’d have got drunk if there was anything to drink in this God-damned dry joint.  The beer here just ‘aint!  It’s only for ½ hour midday and again from 4.45 pm to 5.15 pm.  A seething screaming mob of soldiers and civilians battle grimly for a smell of what’s going.  Most of them only get a look at it.  Hugh Dash, Ian Gall, cartoonist and Roy Connolly, (of Colin Wills wife fame) & I managed to get 4 beers & 3 rums between 2 pubs.  Grog was then over.

Brisbane is a hell of a lot busier than Sydney.  Streets are jammed with cars and people.  Vast vistas of squealing yanks open before the eyes.  The place is lousy with them.  At night the city is scarcely less infested than in day.  S’Awful!  Everybody gapes at my green armbands – most embarrassing – one hears – “Big Shots!”, “General Staff” etc.  Mortifying!  All the others have learnt from experience to wear inconspicuous metal badges.  The correspondents life is not a happy one!

STOP PRESS

Am leaving for Darwin at tremendously early hour as appointed.  Lots of love, be good and give me some kind thoughts – love

Willie

error: Content is protected !!