Chapter 5

3^rd May 1942

The chief saw the logic in the keeping of the spears in one of the fissures. Wilf had been initially concerned about security of our things and those of individual villagers. I told him he had a lot to learn and that the culture here was different. There were no fences, no gates. I explained that theft was almost an unheard-of thing on the island. What people had was owned by all. Everyone shared, everyone worked, hunted and played together. It was the way it had always been and always would be. After all, the people lived so close to each other and where could a thief hide or go on this tiny island? That last statement didn’t ring quite true as Wilf seemed to be able to melt into the jungle in such a way that no-one could find him. Suddenly he was gone and just as sudden he was back. He and I had to be careful when different traders arrived. We would make ourselves scarce until we were sure. The natives just accepted that and never asked why. I got the impression that they thought that perhaps our tribe had kicked us off our own island.

They thought that I was strange when I arrived and stayed. Wilf just proved that I was not uniquely strange. They thought our skin was odd too. We had hair growing out of it around our jaws and mouths. If we didn’t scrape it off every day it would grow. This didn’t happen to any of the villagers on the island. My hair was thin and greying and I trimmed it with scissors. I offered to lend them to Wilf but he seemed to be content to let his grow. Already it was becoming black and straggly unlike the tight black curls of the natives. Physically it was hard for us to blend in. We were different, but always made to feel welcome. Wilf at first had felt unsure about eating with our hosts around the fire, or in the long communal hut if it rained. Today I asked him why and he said that we had not really contributed anything to providing the food. That was the first time I really thought how accustomed I was to having my needs met by others and yet offered little in return. It seemed so easy to accept the gifts and I realised I had for years accepted the way things were or possibly expected that the initial welcome would continue. Wilf said that he would always ensure that he either brought something along with him, or had helped hunt or fish, if we ate there. I told him it was not necessary and the villagers wouldn’t mind, because as they had often said to me that the sea and the island were plentiful. I began to worry that he might be too conscious that his ways were not their ways and insist his were better. This might mean it would take him even longer to be accepted if at all.

Today Wilf did something that could have been catastrophic to our chances of staying here.

A young girl had cut herself a few days ago and her leg had become infected. The usual bandage of leaves mixed with herbs seemed not to be working. I knew not to interfere and cautioned Wilf to do likewise, but the young girl’s whimpering got to him. In his own awkward mix of known words and signing, he asked the girl’s mother if he could help and when his offer of help was accepted, he peeled the bandage away and we could see the beginnings of putrefaction of the skin. He went to our hut, returned with a small jar from his rucksack and sprinkled some powder on it. The girl’s mother probably expected him to chant some words as well, but he simply made a fresh bandage of leaves and tied her leg up. He told me that the wound would eventually heal leaving her a scar if it was properly dressed each day. Tomorrow might tell whether we would be booted out. The chief looked none too pleased. Wilf noticed that and said he would hunt down a pig in the morning to ease any tension.

6th May 1942

I’m writing this in a cave which will become Wilf’s and my home for the foreseeable future. We are not in trouble with the villagers. The girl’s leg was beginning to heal already and Wilf’s present of a prime young male pig was gratefully accepted.

Today changes everything. We grabbed everything that we could that might be a sign of our presence. A Japanese patrol boat towing a small barge had entered the lagoon at high tide early this morning. In the barge were many building materials and supplies. Apart from the crew, the patrol boat carried a small platoon of at least twenty soldiers. Judging on what Wilf and I saw in our mad panic, it appears that they will be setting up a small military base here.

By nightfall they had forced the villagers out of some of their huts so that the officer and NCO could have temporary accommodation. The communal long hut appears to have become a barracks. So far, the villagers have not been mistreated. Whoever is in charge of the setup doesn’t know what he is doing. Latrines have been dug too close to the small creek that supplies fresh water to the villagers. This means that everyone will have to seek water from higher upstream. The latrines are also located in a place where the common prevailing winds will drive the smell down to what we saw as the proposed location for their base. That location is also at the low point of the beach area, so any tidal surges caused by storms that occur will inundate the buildings.

A large amount of food supplies has been brought and so the villagers may not be forced initially to hand over much of their food. The soldiers carried Arisaka bayoneted rifles and there appears to be a Lewis type machine gun as well. Wilf identified these A large amount of ammunition was brought in from the hold of the patrol boat.

I am reasonably confident that the villagers will not disclose the fact that we are on the island. Having been here for so long and earned their trust and given the fact that the Japanese have evicted the chief from his own hut, I see only a minimal risk that our whereabouts will be made known. For many years now, I have been walking barefoot everywhere across the island and Wilf had begun doing the same so that even if the soldiers do look down, they won’t see tell-tale shoe prints.

Wilf has already expressed his intention to take out the antennae for the land troops radio that will no doubt be set up shortly by their radio operator. With a storm brewing he will wait until thunder rolls in with the storm. He says, with a low grain count bullet, he can do it. It will look like storm damage and will put their radio out of action until it can be replaced when the patrol boat returns. I’m not sure who is in charge of the two of us. He has orders to look after my safety but it seems odd as I am much older than he is and have been on the island longer. Then again it is a war situation and I have no experience. He seems very competent and got us out of the village very quickly making sure nothing was left behind.

The soldiers spent all day unloading supplies without the crews help. There was an argument between the commander of the boat and the second lieutenant in charge of the platoon. I have a feeling that the army and navy don’t like each other. If I was that second lieutenant, I would keep in sweet with the patrol boat captain as that boat is the only way off the island. He looks young though and trying to impress. His sergeant who was organising the platoon is the one to watch, Wilf said.

I have no idea why they are setting a base up here. The island isn’t conducive as a port and there isn’t enough flat land for a runway. With the channel to the lagoon too shallow to enter except at high tide, it doesn’t make sense to me. I will continue to observe and report on events, but will resort to the codes supplied and use Morse until Wilf takes out the aerial and at all times when the patrol boat is in the area. The boat left slightly late as the second high tide of the day had been reached. The captain seemed keen to get out at all costs before the incoming storm arrived. There is lightning all around and the rain is being to fall. Wilf has chosen this cave very well. There is run off for water and so it is dry. We daren’t have a fire but the night is warm. He has gone “hunting” tonight and said he would be back late.