Jimmy Smyth Archives - Pidgeon Post

August 24, 2023August 20, 2023

War Letters – NW Australia: 24 Aug 1943, Darwin; 10th Wedding anniversary

From Friday, August 20, through to Monday, August 23, 1943, Wep was on assignment at a Mission Station on Milingimbi Island. Whilst absent, Wep penned a letter to Jess, of which the first 13 pages have been lost or misplaced.

At an Aboriginal mission station, Milingimbi Island, 20-23 August, 1943

WEP with two Aboriginal women at Milingimbi Mission, 20-23 August, 1943

Continuation of letter written 23 August

Page 14

…. but plain damn silly. I wish you hadn’t told me. Anyway I’ll be home within a week of you getting this letter. So expect a lot of things to look up.

Study for Interior – Cockpit, Transport Plane. The plane is a Lockheed Hudson.

Had a fair trip back. Couldn’t see much as we were flying blind in bush fire smoke for a hundred miles. Am glad to be back and have already made application for my return trip. Hurry up that new dress and look your damndest. Only the two of us together the night I come back.

Am getting tired as I have had to put off writing tonight until the typists gave up the ghost – which they unwillingly did about 10.30pm. Didn’t sleep to well over on the island. The nights turned out too cold for only two blanket over me and the sand fly itches gave me de woiks. Used to wake at 2 or 3am, or even earlier I imagine, & toss for the remainder of the night. No good.

And so to bed. – Goodnight my darling. I hope you managed the anniversary pleasantly & tolerably happily. I haven’t got to mine yet although I’m only about ¾ hour off the 24^th August. Lots of love sweet, save yours all up for my return.

24^th August
Page 15

Good morning my bride. Tis the wedding morn. Ten years removed. Got your telegram – Thanks a lot dear. I hope you got mine on the right day. I had to get the man mountain¹ here to send it for me on Monday as I was still away. They say that it would get there on the auspicious occasion. I hope so. Everyone has wished me happy anniversaries. To give the real domestic flavour to the day I have lit up the copper and am about to do the washing.

Am trying to get air transport to Sydney, but there seems to be some bother, a lot of the air services have been cut down. So, at the moment I’m still in the air (i.e metaphorically speaking) again. Give me the works when you dress up for the happy day.

XXX Bill

Little flowers for anniversary day. They were a frangipani & a pretty red wild bloom.

Postcript

Years later in a letter (2 September 1972) written to John Olsen congratulating him on being awarded a commission to paint his mural Salute to Five Bells at the Sydney Opera House, Wep recalled his trip to Millingimbi Mission.

“Was intrigued to see your bright shininess cavorting over the Arnhem Land – Fascinating! A lucky well deserved jaunt. What a place. During the war I made a trip (by plane) to Milingimbi – Never forget the swamps and Christ knows what we flew over to get there. The bloody beautiful birds in their millions! Nice, the indications of what you were doing about them. I can still remember the roar of the wings over the lagoons of Humpty Doo.”

Interior – Cockpit, Transport Plane, The Australian Women’s Weekly, 20 Nov 1943, cover

Sketch study for Interior, Cockpit Hudson Transport Plane

Further References

The camp for Army and RAAF personnel stationed on the island.

Story about the Planes that crashed in Milingimbi in WWII – Ganygulpa Dhurrkay and Jimmy Burpur and SImon Gaykamangu telling stories about the bombing of Milingimbi and cleanup of the crashed World War II planes by Milingimbi ALPA CDP workers. Produced by ALPA CDP media student Hazel Wanambi

Calls for northern Australia’s World War II legacy to be better recognised on the national stage

Notes:

1
Fellow corresopndent Jimmy Smyth from the Truth and Daily Mirror newspapers who stood 6′ 5″ tall

July 23, 2023August 15, 2023

War Letters – NW Australia: 23 July 1943, Darwin; Back to base and noisy correspondents

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

Friday
[23 Jul 1943]

Darling,

Am back again to the old home comforts. There are only 4 correspondents here at the moment, thank heavens. But those at present here are damned voluble – voceriferously arguing the toss on world social system. I’m too weak to join in. The mob down the road had a formal mess last night (as they go once a week) this seemed – or rather did – get away on us all. After beer and sherry – we settled down to some steady gin drinking. Unfortunately liquor has immediate and body shattering effect. Hangovers are pretty shaking in this here territory.

Last two nights have been plenty cold. To my sorry I had taken only 2 blankets with me. One to sleep on & the other to cover me. Not enough – your sweet hubby was always glad to see the dawn as most of the night I just lay and shivered.

This is a bugger of a place to write letters. One cannot continue a line of thought. Willy nilly the conversation about obtrudes.

Haven’t had any letters from you yet. What gibes? Too much social life? Am anticipating one tomorrow. I’ll break down & cry or go plumb “Troppo”.

Sorry to say that I’m too tired to write much tonight. I’d like to be home at the moment lying in my beauto bed reading a thriller-diller. Or just lying, yes? Are you being my good little sweet model wifie? Has Tommy gone north yet?

Lots of love and special juicy kisses. Save ‘em all up for me. No giving any away –

Goodnight sweet heart –

Bill

5 minutes later

I cannot leave you so. How’s Ellie? Hours? My new nephew? Has Sally conceived? Noticed in our local daily paper (printed by the army) that another Telegraph correspondent Osmar White has stopped it¹.

Farewell again. Relapse has hold of me – Pray for my liver my sweet. Tell King² I got his little note. Is Cyril³ happy? Are you minding Tony⁴ & Pussy yet?

Spose I’d better write to the boys.

Am back in D.

no letters!!!!!
in a week!!!!

naughty Jessie

Later edition.

Things have quietened down. One still smashes the noise box, another silently struggles with a game of patience.

James (Jimmy) Frederick Smyth represented Sydney’s Daily Mirror and Truth; William (Bill) Caldbeck-Moore was feature writer for Sydney’s Daily Telegraph; Frank Tierney was correspondent for the Sydney Morning Herald; Noel Adams for the Advertiser (Adelaide) see also; Noel Ottaway for Sydney’s Sun newspaper

(This is all very rough I’m saving myself up for the grand effort I on at present here.)

After next week I start on the air force – then may be something on the navy.

Blarsted sandflies are like pneumatic suckers & the mosquitos like blarsted bombers.

More love

Bill

(am feeling plenty sunburnt right now!)

Bill.

Have lost cig. lighter twice.
Have found cig. lighter twice after lapse of two days.

No grilled steak here.

Tea like stewed treacle.

Out of the mouths of babes & sucklings we had large helpings of prunes today.

Love again

Bill.

Notes:

1
JAP BOMB WOUNDS WAR REPORTER (1943, July 27). The Daily Telegraph (Sydney, NSW : 1931 – 1954), p. 4.
2
King Watson
3
Cyril Pearl
4
Tony Pearl

August 2, 2013July 29, 2013

War Letters – Borneo: 28 Jul – 2 Aug 1945, Limbang & Labuan; Visit to a Dyak village

W. E. Pidgeon

C/o Public Relations

1 Aust Corps

July 28 Sat. [1945]

Dear Jess,

Will probably be moving off tomorrow for the Jesseltown area which I should manage to cover in a week. I have 7 or 8 possible subjects up my sleeve now, so what with that trip & a week or ten days at Balik Papan (Bally P ‘parn’ to you, mug). I should have enough stuff to satisfy “The Weekly”. I see no good purpose served by just hanging around sight seeing. What really takes up the time here is transport which is slow & varied. I intend to visit a Dyak (the indigenous native) village on the way back to Labuan. I should be home in 4 or 5 weeks. Am having a loaf this afternoon and shall perhaps take in a swim later. Spent an extremely hot morning trying to paint a blown up workshop which now houses the field bakery. Had the usual horde of sightseers clustered around me. They did not worry me as much as the difficulties encountered in the attempt to paint under the tropical sun. Sweated like a pig all the morning and am now in a semi coma. This climate is enervating enough – turns me into a sort of lean Tommy Moon.

I’d do a shot of spine bashing only that I would be awake half the night!

Tuesday 6 pm.

[31 Jul 1945]

Have just finished a tea of sorts (we have it at 5.30, which is really about 4 o’clock) and am sitting in solitary state in my own tent watching a sudden tropical downpour, complete with thunders & lightenings. I sit and contemplate the muddy foreground. The uncountable puddles making it nearly as wet as the Limbang River which flows past just a hundred yards away. I am not back at Labuan yet although I intent to return there tomorrow. On the advice of those who know I sidetracked myself to the village of Limbang – a 1 1/2 hours barge run from Brunei. It was worth the visit alright. Here one sees the natives of Borneo, the head hunting Dyak, in their real state.

AWW 1945 Oct-20 — The Australian Women’s Weekly, 20 Oct 1945

[Study, Dyak warrior, Limbang area, Sarawak I]

By God, they’re magnificent people. It is hard to associate their grace & beauty with their bloodthirstiness. The extraordinarily feminine features of the young men must be seen to be believed. They are small but wonderfully proportioned – with their long hair, reaching down to the bottom of their shoulder blades, or done up in a pointed bun at the back. They wear too a jet black fringe across the forehead and beaded throat bands. Great big earrings, or rather decorative plugs in their ears. Silver bangles run riot on their forearms, & above the calf of the leg (a wonderful leg too, me girl!). Blue green tatooing’s on the throat & shoulders – and a colorful loin cloth sits comfortably alongside the sharpest of swords. Two of the kids, one about 14, the other about 17 were bloody beautiful. I shan’t try to draw them for you as I couldn’t do them justice. I took some photos of them late in the evening – I hope they come out alright. Chinese & Malays wander up and down the only street all day long. Some good lookers too, by gum. The army crimes anyone found indulging in hanky panky with the native population. The women marry early & have a child every year. For every couple there must be an average 4 or 5 kids, and this by the time the woman is 22.

Wed. 5 pm

[1 Aug 1945]

Have been sitting reading in the bottom of this barge for Labuan. Three dreary hours have just passed – the first 2 in a hazy somnolent stupour against my packs and dripping from every pore beneath the sweltering sun. There is absolutely nothing to look at from the bulwarks above – just the same sea, lazily waving in the same patterns as it did twenty miles back. In the distance the same casual pale blue line of hills. We are due to land at Labuan in an hour and a half. I look forward to the landing at it means getting out of this dreary hot box – and most important – there should be some mail from you darling, awaiting.

Labuan

Thursday

[2 Aug 1945]

Things ain’t just what they should be. No mail and no transport out of here tomorrow – which means a day wasted in sitting on my rear and grinding my teeth with sheer impotency.

We are in a new camp, a pleasant enough spot under the palms & facing the beach, but miles from any blasted where I could do some work. Alan Dawes, Smyth, and Adams, are on the way home. Only Cliff remains.

The only thing to do is to try and get some of the clammy sweat out of my clothes. I have been getting around too much to be able to get them washed. Looks like a cold water lick for them this morning.

Mail goes out shortly so bulletin will be cut to short issue. The boys tell me that the mail has been delayed so I will not go into hysterics yet. Today 3 weeks since I left Sydney and no news from the home front.

All rather grim not knowing how you & Bub are getting along.

Lots of love

Bill

I wrote a poem of sorts while spine bashing at Kuala Belait.

They are my clothes hanging there

Limp in the Borneo sun

And threaded on a sagging rope.

I can accept the flat green leaves

Gently swaying as the hawk

Who sails above the swish of surf

I can accept the bare chested soldier

His stained fag hanging from his lips

While he ties his singlet on the line

With string

I can accept the drifting mountain cloud

Of rolling oil fire smoke

Which canopies the sea

I can accept the clanking of the pans

The cook without enthusiasm

Washes in the hot and chlorinated water

I can accept the butterfly

Who flutters wavy and but once

Past the tents vee shaped pane of light

Dyak warriors with unidentified War Correspondents at Limbang, Borneo (possibly Cliff Eager on left)

Dyak warriors with an unidentified War Correspondent at Limbang, Borneo

Dyak warrior. The Dyaks are small in stature with almost feminine like features but reknowned for being deadly head-hunters

[Study, Dyak warrior, Limbang area, Sarawak II]

July 23, 2013July 23, 2013

War Letters – Borneo: 24 July 1945, Brunei; Afternoon tea with the local villagers

Brunei

W.E. Pidgeon

C/o Public Relations

1 Aust Corps

Tuesday night

24 July

My dear Jess,

Am now on the mainland of Borneo and am camped at a spot by the river about 1/2 mile out of what is left of the village of Brunei. I remember seeing an article on the leader page of ‘The Herald’ in which this joint was described as the ‘Venice of the east’. If Venice is anything like this God help it! On the opposite side of the river there must be a couple of hundred native houses built over the water & supported by timbers much the same as the Papuan houses around Moresby. There is an incessant coming & going of small boats – in & out from the houses, up and down the river – all over the bleeding place. These houses look drearily squalid but the touch of tropic romance (sic) is supplied by a group of young kids paddling & singing a queer Malayan song which carries well across the water. A slithering sound & a rasping of dry grass makes me jump & consider horrific images of pythons crushing Willie’s bones. I escape this pulpy fate & sigh to see a lizard of the brightest cutest green imaginable and he eyes me obliquely & unmovingly. After time I’ll take without a qualm the pinkest of elephants. Maybe it was the gin I had last night.

I am escorted by an intrepid bodyguard from the Public Relations. Apparently his job is to arrange transport for me and to fight off the Japs while I pursue the arts and further the successes of the “Women’s Weekly”.

It took us 4 1/2 hours to cross from Labuan. After a large trip like this and a modest suggestion of a hangover I would willingly have given Borneo back to the wild men.

Had a bit of a snooze just before tea which is at 5.30 pm. Incidentally the time the army is operating on is all haywire. I reckon it is about 1 1/2 hours ahead of what it should be. This close to the equator one must expect normally sunrise about 6 am and sunset about 6 pm. As it is sunup is nearer 7.30 am than anything and it gets dark at 8. All this guff merely to tell you we have tea really at about 4 pm.

MP escort on a visit to the village at Brunei

Wep with some local children, most likely in Brunei

Went over the village (the part that is sensibly built on land) after tea. Accompanied by an army cop who talked and explained all the doings like a cook’s tour spruiker. Had two cups of tea in a native home – this palace was underneath the house proper and in the room which I would say was approx. 15′ x 15′ lives 4 couples & an uncountable number of children. These natives sure know how to reproduce the young. The provost fellow knew a few words of Malay and all was giggles & tea swilling. The higher social level here is maintained by the Chinese of whom some are really good lookers. Many of them are pretty wealthy and live in large & airy homes bounded by gracious tress, bamboos, & banana plants. Basically it is an interesting enough place although now sadly in need of repair & paint since the Japanese occupation. The natives here are hard bargainers and see to it that the army boys pay plenty for what they want in the way of souvenirs. Saw some magnificent sarongs some of the lads had paid 50 dollars for. 50 dollars to you mug, is about £7.10.0. Quite a whack!

There’s a bug of some sort creeping round here making noises just like dear old Joe Palooka’s “Tch, Tch”.

Some of the little native kids are delightful. I’d like to buy one for little Graham. They carry on with the same antics.

Little Wep; The Australian Women's Weekly, 21 Jul 1945 — Little Wep; The Australian Women’s Weekly, 21 Jul 1945

Jimmy Smyth’s wife posted him the cover with our little man on it. I look at it lovingly & it is now travelling Brunei State with me. Is he looking after you all right?

I think I’ll push off to bed as I’m all wore out. My salubrious couch consists of a hip hole in the earth – a ground sheet, a blanket, and a mosquito net.

Yours for better sleeping – loving Will.

8.30 am Wed. The Brunei ground takes the fun for hardness. It all added up to the longest night I think I’ve ever spent. At last I have achieved a measure of benevolent dignity. Graciously I acknowledge the salutes of the astute and discerning natives. I walk along bowing & beaming like Queen Elizabeth. The natives are nuts on gold teeth. One soldier here told of a Malayan who had all his teeth covered & leaving a heart shaped window in the gold in the front – “Very pretty it was too”, says the boy. I’ll bet?

Smart effect that

Lots of love darling to you & Graham

Bill

July 22, 2013July 25, 2013

War Letters – Borneo: 22 July 1945, Labuan; Wet & cold, hot & dry, Victoria Town in ruins

W. E. Pidgeon

War Correspondent

c/o Public Relations

1 Aust Corps

Sunday July 24 1945 [22 Jul 1945]

Darling,

It is inconceivably wet and almost cold. Everyone in the camp is on their spines, out of the wet, & either reading, or gazing gloomingly at the fog of rain that surrounds the tents. It has been raining, & raining plenty for the last 2 1/2 hours. It is said that all roads will be closed for the time being as the trucks & God-knows-what vehicles are simply churning them into a sea of mud. Where, yesterday, I was choked & coated with the talc like dust is today a slippery & sloppy morass attended by the suckings and ploppings of boots stepping & out of the mess & the slithering hiss of tyres. Damn me if it hasn’t got worse. Our tent is flooded & the earthen floor lies beneath an inch of swirling water. I got a spade & Eager is trying to dig himself out a bypass channel. His stretcher is likely to float off any minute. A few tents up Dawes & Smythe sit with their feet on their stretchers & peer helplessly at the 3 inches of water & slush beneath them. Noel Adams in our tent takes it all rather philosophically – he can afford to – his bed is perched on the only dry piece of ground in the whole bloody camp.

It is too dull, and uncomfortable to write any more at the moment. The weather stinks and I am as wet as a WC from the hips down. Borneo for rain!

[23 Jul 1945]

Monday. Just prior to afternoon tea time. Today is dry and hot. The correspondents’ spines are still taking a terrible bashing. As far as they are concerned this campaign is over and they are merely waiting to be taken home.

That fellow Newman, Ivan gave me the note to, is on the island but I have not been able to get sufficient means of transport to contact him. I did meet one of the 2nd Seventh who told me, Newman, was here. The fellow that I met was Radcliffe and well remembers that dag “Joe” Gaskin. Also came across Capt. George La Monte – I think you introduced him to me in the early days – he inquired kindly after you and if I recollect alright, the young man. Lt. Arthur Horner, the tall fair artist johnny we had out to tea one night is attached to military history section just down the road.

There’s nothing much to tell you about this island Labuan. It is quite small and is more or less a base area with an air strip. The Japs have been cleared out and there is no excitement apart from the tracking down of mosquitoes and myriads of other winged beasties. I imagine that Victoria Town once the hub of social life, was a picturesque spot in pre war days. Only a couple of brick homes and an old clock tower remain after the invasion bombardment and the demolition by the air force gangs. The native population consists mostly of Chinese farmers. Malayans and Indians, all quite small in stature. The women are slim and on the whole not unattractive whilst occasionally a real beauty will appear for a passing moment. Their build is slim and graceful, their bones delicate and well turned. They dress mostly in a buttoned up to the neck tunic and three quarter length pants – their black hair is always well groomed in plaits and other what you – do – it like styles. Usually the colours are white, pinks, bright blues, and black. All beautifully laundered. Sometimes you see them wearing a vivid puce headgear with a bright green upper garment and getting away with it. The babies are either slung across their backs or carried in exactly the same ways as the cuddler seat manner.

Two bottles of beer and a bottle of gin ration is on today.

Am leaving in the morning for Brunei and down the coast to the oilfields where I should get more stuff than this place offers. We shall see. How’s my little fellow? Has he missed me at all yet? How are you? Not unduly put out about my absence I hope. Does he try to walk yet? Behaving your ‘self? How’s Mum? And a lot of other questions. Lots of love dear and tell Graham I often think of what he may be up to.

Love

Bill

Have had some of my money changed into Straits Settlements money which is the legal currency up here. Am sending you 1 dollar, about 2/11.

[Signature of censor at bottom of letter]

War Correspondent relaxing in camp at Labuan — War Correspondent Cliff Eager relaxing in camp at Labuan

War Correspondents Jimmy Smyth (left) and Alan Dawes (right)

War Correspondent W.E. Pidgeon (WEP) relaxing in camp at Labuan

War Correspondents Jimmy Smyth on left, Cliff Eager on right in

Clock Tower of the local Town Hall, Victoria Town, Labuan Island

The Clock Tower in the distance and the only two buildings that remained in the former pretty town of Victoria Town, Labuan Island

July 19, 2013July 20, 2013

War Letters – Borneo: 19 July 1945, Labuan; Morotai to Labuan via transport plane

Write to

W.E. Pidgeon

War Correspondent

Public Relations

1^st Aust Corps

Thursday 10.15 am

[19 Jul 1945]

Am bored to tears – am uncomfortably curled up (one cannot stay reclined) on a pile of mail bags – and am hanging about 8000 ft above an awful lot of ocean about half way between Morotai and Borneo. We left the island at 7 am this morning and will not land at Brunei until somewhere near (censored) – It’s a helluva long way to fly. All around is a vast hazy world of blue – the horizon is indistinguishable but you guess it is out where the blues change tone. Above us long fingers of cloud point their stationery directions while below white balls like anti aircraft shell explosions spot the sea. It is cold too and I sit dismally wrapped round in a blanket. There are nine of us sprawled about half of them are either asleep or near it. I’ve been pushed off to Brunei first because accommodation at Balik Papan is limited – There will be no need for you to worry about me copping anything as I understand that we have gained all objectives and are now content just to hold them. Could go a cuppa or a feed right now with certain relish. I don’t know why they always like to get you up at 4.30 am to catch planes that never leave (censored) or 7. It means a lousy nights sleep and a stupid wakening – no tea and no grub till we land. Is that good or bad?

The cigarette position is grim. They are rationed and the issue is 2 ozs tobacco and 30 or 40 cigs per week. I did manage to come by one carton of yank fags but these boys have woken up to their exploitation by the Australians – so they now charge 5 guilders a carton i.e. 16/8 Australian.

Morotai: mobile printing press for publishing the Army newspaper Table Tops

Night before last I had been trying to do a bit of work about the mobile printing press the Army newspaper is produced on. Unfortunately I decided on my return to the camp at 11 pm to call into the Public Relations tent & was inveighed into a game of poker – at 3.10 am I was only just awake & down 8 or 9 guilders when to my great good fortune an air raid alert was sounded & the lights had to go out. The game was abandoned & I trotted off to a much needed bed. The alert was a phony but it helped save poor Will from greater disasters. Enough of this for the moment – I need to rest.

Arrived safely at Labuan. Am with Cliff Eager, Alan Dawes, Jimmy Smyth & Noel Adams. Mail is leaving now will write tonight.

Lots of love to you and bub.

Bill

Morotai, The Australian Women's Weekly, 3 Nov 1945, p11 — Morotai, The Australian Women’s Weekly, 3 Nov 1945, p11

[Letter included caricatures of fellow correspondents Cliff Eager, Alan Dawes, Jimmy Smyth & Noel Adams.]

Interior of a Douglas C47 transport plane

Wep sitting amongst the mail bags on a Douglas C47 transport plane

Postcript

Further References

Notes:

Notes:

W. E. Pidgeon

C/o Public Relations

1 Aust Corps

July 28 Sat. [1945]

Tuesday 6 pm.

[31 Jul 1945]

[1 Aug 1945]

Labuan

Thursday

[2 Aug 1945]

They are my clothes hanging there

Limp in the Borneo sun

And threaded on a sagging rope.

I can accept the flat green leaves

Gently swaying as the hawk

Who sails above the swish of surf

I can accept the bare chested soldier

His stained fag hanging from his lips

While he ties his singlet on the line

With string

I can accept the drifting mountain cloud

Of rolling oil fire smoke

Which canopies the sea

I can accept the clanking of the pans

The cook without enthusiasm

Washes in the hot and chlorinated water

I can accept the butterfly

Who flutters wavy and but once

Past the tents vee shaped pane of light

Brunei

W.E. Pidgeon

C/o Public Relations

1 Aust Corps

Tuesday night

24 July

W. E. Pidgeon

War Correspondent

c/o Public Relations

1 Aust Corps

Sunday July 24 1945 [22 Jul 1945]

[23 Jul 1945]

Write to

W.E. Pidgeon

War Correspondent

Public Relations

1st Aust Corps

Thursday 10.15 am

[19 Jul 1945]

1^st Aust Corps