How would you be feeling this morning? Taking it easy on the verandah? Keeping the mosquitoes off? I am managing that quite well now that I have commandeered a decent American hammock from the P. Relations.
A legitimate transaction I hasten to add it’s a very flash doover – a hammock with waterproof roof and walls of mosquito net joined together with zippers. In I hops & does myself up like a ruddy meat safe while the anoppeles wave frustrated stingers without.
Am in another camp again. Have pitched tent with Roy Hodgkinson & another fellow. I’m praising the place when I say it’s a pretty dreary joint. I’m told it is typical of a forward site. No lights, so these letters are written hastily after tea. I haven’t done a drawing in your letters yet because I’ve been too b- sour. Last night I slept or rather attempted to, on a bed of coral covered with a ground sheet and a blanket.
Trucks coming & going all night & 3 air raid alerts. I suppose I managed a couple of hours shuteye before my hip bone wore through the skin like a hole in the heel of a sock. That’s 2 nights out of 4 I have been awake since I arrived on the northern coast of N. Guinea. Haven’t done much work so far for the simple reason I have not been able to settle down. On two occasions the camps have shifted their sites the day after I arrived. The humidity is terrific. I wish they’d have this show on down near the pole or someplace like. My brain’s like a soggy lump of porridge.
After about 4 or 5 days here I’ll move off to the Ramu Valley, spend maybe a week or more & start back for the Mainland where I shall have to go on to the tablelands for a week. Then back – I hope. The rush has got me something rattled. However I have about 5 pictures lined up already – should have any amount by the time I get through.
Thurs Morning [27 Jan 1944] – Not much sleep again last night – seem to be taking your complaint over. First rain last night. Came down in sheets. My sweet little hammock kept it off.
Am writing this whilst sitting safely & placidly on a comfortable bed in a comfortable camp. As you observe I have at last got this pen into some semblance of working order. I hope it stays like this. Jack Hickson is still asleep – he’s been asleep ever since we left Sydney.
We got here about 6.30 pm yesterday after a strenuous 11 hour trip from Townsville. And what a trip! 5 hours over the bleeding ocean, through rain squalls & bumps and vague (at least to us) turnings. Sometimes only a 100 ft or so over the sea & at others 8000. A dirty trip which caused your old man a certain amount of mental distress. Landed at Moresby drome where there was only one other plane on the field – that place is plenty dead these days. Took ½ hour to climb high enough to cross the Owen Stanleys which were covered with enormous clouds. We then turned up the Ramu Valley but were forced back by cloud before we got near Shaggy Ridge. Climbed to about 15000 ft & passed over the bottom edge of the Bismarck Range & so to the Finschhafen coast to the accompaniment of more mental agitation. Took us about 4 more hours flying time to get here which is just over the Dutch border. Was I glad to land? Was it good or bad? No one wanted us as no one had heard of us. After 1 ½ hours bum warming we managed a frugal meal at an air force camp & finally made our way up to the American Public Relations section of this huge US camp. We slept here in some luxury. Was introduced to the major in charge [Richard (Dick) Brewer] who asked me my Christian name. His reaction to my weighty information was “I am married to Ilma” [Ilma Brewer nee Pidgeon, Wep’s first cousin]. So you see I am living with relatives namely my cousin-in-law. He asked me how our chee-ild was. And how is the little pet? Does he miss dear old da? Drop me a letter (one only) c/o RAAF Public Relations Morotai – but do it straightaway. I’ll probably miss it anyway. Breakfast is due in a few moments. I’ll try to write to greater length when we settle down some place.
Lots of love dear. Look after yourself, Graham, and Mum. Giver her my love.
[Richard and Ilma Brewer went back to the US after the war but returned to Australia a few years later to settle permanently. Dick became the General manager for Parker Pens Australia and Ilma earned a PhD and became a Lecturer in Botany at the University of Sydney]